Gay Erotic Stories

He wasn’t a bubble butt weight lifter, no inflated Venice Beach hyperbole. He was actually quite slender but he had the most incredible definition you’ve ever seen! Just average height, but wide shoulders and a waist that had to be about 27 or 28 inches. His body shape was like a kid, maybe a 17 year old distance runner. I guess it was all the working outside in the summers, sweating constantly, but he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.

He also had this habit of working in as little clothing as “community standards” allowed! Whenever he cut grass for my neighbors, I watched him with field glasses! Wow. I’d seen him work in an old pair of red, cut-off sweatpants, thin as an ancient tee-shirt and blasted with holes! The elastic waistband was shot and when the jersey got wet they hung down low and the tops of his ass cheeks shined like a pair of twin moons rising!

When he bent over to pick up a fallen limb, gawd! Half his butt was right there to drool over! In front? Well, I knew the shape of his pubic bush before I knew his name, okay? The only trouble is: I’m out (if not outspoken) in a pretty close knit neighborhood. I didn’t move away to a big city and the safety of an anonymous crowd, I came out in my home town and bought my mom’s house when she remarried and moved away. This was where I grew up and where I wanted to live. I didn’t catch hell from the neighbors, but people tended to maintain a friendly distance. That was all right by me, I’m pretty much a loner. When I’m home, I write poetry and paint and raise flowers. My visitors are mostly family. I have a brother living nearby, my son and his wife visit regularly (I’m divorced). Anyway, I’m not the type to cruise the parks or throw wild house parties, just a quietly queer, middle aged homebody. The first year I moved in, lots of people looked the other way when we met in the grocery store. You get the idea? But, after a while, folks get used to anything. When no big scandal broke out, no parade of six foot transvestites or whatever bad dreams the neighbors feared, nothing materialized except this quiet, neat guy living peacefully ... well, a kind of truce developed. People began to wave when they drove past, neighbors stopped to talk if we ran into each other, store clerks smiled and began to act friendly. I got used to it, too. I liked it. But Robert? He was skittish. Whenever I spoke to him, he sort of ducked his head and avoided my eyes. It was interesting, of course. Face it: a grown man living with his mother and divorced, single for several years, housed in an all female environment and running around almost naked? I had to wonder about his latent thoughts, right? Maybe I obsessed on him, hell; there were damn few men around of any interest at all! I was bound to use someone for fantasy material, right? He cut the grass for my next door neighbor so one Friday I caught him when he’d finished but before he loaded up the truck. “Hey, Robert. Do you have time to do my front yard? The Taylor boy was supposed to cut it yesterday but he never showed up. I usually give him thirty dollars, would that be enough?” In fact, I usually paid thirty for both the front and the back but I really wanted Robert to work for me, thought it was worth the extra few bucks. He checked his watch, “Uh, I’ve still got another yard but since I’m right here. Thirty for just the front?” his face came up from the ground, up to look at me, the money obviously made a difference. I tried not to smile. “Is that enough? I don’t know how much you charge.” “Yeah, that’s fine. No problem.” No problem, indeed. I knew it wouldn’t take him twenty minutes to cut the front, but I wanted to get him over this first time of being seen in my yard! He grabbed his tee shirt from the truck and pulled it on. Amusing. He would be overly aware of his body around me, normal reaction. I ignored the shy gesture, even went inside the house while he worked, left him alone. Of course I watched from a window! Come on! He was wearing striped jams that day, very modest. He finished in less than fifteen minutes! I went back out to meet him by the truck, handed him the money and a cold Pepsi.” “Wow, thanks! I can use that!” He popped the soda with a grin. “I started to bring you a beer, wasn’t sure if you ...?” “Hell, yeah! That’d be great!” his face formed a sly smile, first time I’d seen it. “I could drink a beer, too. It’s really hot out here.” “Hold on, I’ll get you one.” So, there was a positive enthusiasm for beer? Maybe a rare treat for him? I figured his mother didn’t allow beer in her house, wouldn’t be unusual in our Bible-Belt town.

The extra money and the beer, especially the beer, broke his reserve about working for me. Next time he did my neighbor’s yard he came over and knocked on my door. “Hi. Just wondered if you wanted your grass cut. That back is getting pretty high. I’d cut both front and back for forty if you got a cold brew,” the sly smile was back. Definitely a soft spot for beer! I had to repress my gratified smile, didn’t want to make him back off. “Great, man. Go to it! I’ve got a whole case of Bud in the fridge, you want one now?” “I could sure use it!” he was dripping in sweat. Like before, he’d put his shirt on before coming into my yard. “Want to come inside for the air conditioning? Cool off before you start?” “Nawh, I’ll just wait out here.” I went for the beer, left him on the porch. Of course he wouldn’t come inside, what was I thinking? He was shy as a rabbit; I’d have to be real careful not to scare him off. He was probably thinking I’d jump his bones at first chance! Well, damn if I wouldn’t! I laughed to myself. No chance, just enjoy the close-up view, don’t fuck it up. He chugged the first one almost in a single gulp! Well, he was hot and thirsty. “Damn, you killed that soldier! You want another? There’s plenty more.” “Guess I better hit this grass. Maybe another when I move around back? Two or three and I won’t be worth a damn! Don’t spoil me!” His grin was as much plea as warning. I smiled back in understanding. By the time he finished the front, I had a Styrofoam cooler with six beers on the rear deck next to a chaise in the shade. I tossed a towel across the arm of the chaise. He came around the house and killed his mower as soon as he saw the cooler; the familiar grin lit his face. “Help yourself, Robert. I’ve got to run up to the bank and cash a check.” I waved and left him on his own. It was a ploy, yeah. I figured he would relax more with me out of the way. I did need some cash, anyway. I bought cigarettes and grabbed a pack of Newport’s, Robert’s brand, because I hadn’t seen him smoke that day, figured he must be out. When I returned, there were two empties by the cooler and he was almost finished with the back yard. I opened a beer and sat down, watched and enjoyed the sight of his slick muscled back and arms. His tee shirt lay on the chaise. His pants of the day were light blue denim cut offs, tight at the waist so I didn’t get the view of his ass I always admired. Still, he made a nice image with his fine, slim body soaked in sweat and oil. Wasn’t so long ago I had a body like that. Now, I had to watch the diet to close my thirty inch jeans. From a distance, he was easy to mistake for a teenager. Nice combination to find, that small head and slender hips with the maturity of a grown man. That was the first time I thought about painting him. He made a last pass and killed the noisy mower, came up on the deck with a big, satisfied smile; went right to the chaise and flopped back, raised his eyebrows in a funny way and pointed down at the cooler. He loved beer and it showed! I smiled back and nodded, “Help yourself, you earned it!” The beer really relaxed him; he had no problem looking right in my face, holding his eyes to mine. He spotted the Newports on the table. “Hey! Are those for me?” “Yeah, I thought you might be out.” “Damn, that was nice of you! I’ve been out all day. Thanks, man!” He got a smoke going and mopped at his face with the towel, sighed deeply and lay back, sucked down half a beer. “Now, this is the life! Wow, I could sit right here for hours!” I laughed at his enjoyment of small pleasures. “Nobody even knows where you are, relax, cool off,” I told him. “It’d be hard to get me up, right now ... except …?” “Huh?” I didn’t know what he meant, “Except what?” “ ’cept I’m about to piss my pants! Three beers is about all I can hold!” He pulled himself up out of the chaise with a groan. “Can I use your john?” “Sure!” I opened the sliding glass door and led him across the den, pushed open the bedroom door and pointed, “There you go.” “All right!” he passed by me holding his crotch like a kid. He didn’t bother to close the bathroom door, the commode was just out of sight but when he dropped his pants to his knees I got a jolt from the view of his naked butt while the splash of a fire hose spray spewed out! No underwear? interesting! “What a relief!” He tilted his head back and grinned at me, so he knew I was standing there watching. Very interesting! He pulled his pants up but only raised the zipper to half way, left the button open. Came out with a calmer expression! “Now, I can relax and cool off!” He led the way back toward the deck, stopped in the den. “Hey, that’s a great TV! How big is it? Looks like a fucking movie screen!” “It’s a 60 inch, a rear projection screen. Movies are sort of my hobby; I don’t go out much at night, just rent videos and stay here. Keeps me off the streets.” “Yeah? I like movies, too. What kind you like?” He went over to check out my shelves of tapes. “I like all kinds, action and special effects stuff, foreign films, old westerns, anything.” “Hey, Kung Fu? Jackie Chan? That’s what I like, kickboxing and shit! You got any fuck movies?” I laughed, “A few.” “Opps, sorry, man. I forgot you’re a... Guess you don’t get into that shit. None of my business!” He headed back to the deck. “It’s okay,” I told him, “no offense taken. Say what you think, it doesn’t embarrass me!” He settled back in the chaise, opened another beer. Surprised me, I thought he was about to run scared with the reminder I was gay, but he was cool, didn’t even zip up his pants which were now gapped open pretty wide! “Aw, never mind. You just a nice guy, that’s all.” He sighed, “Treat me pretty damn good!” “I’m just glad you took my yard. Nice to have a man I can count on. I have to admit, I like to watch you work, too.” Careful, careful! “Yeah, I know”, he grinned. “I’ve seen you watch me. I don’t mind that. You ain’t never tried to grab me, or nothin’!” He spread his arms wide, inviting my examination. “Glad you don’t mind, it’d be hard to keep my eyes off you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a stomach with so many ridges in it!” “Yeah, I do a hundred sit-ups a day!” He looked down at his belly, spread his fly wider and flexed his abdominals until the six-pack of muscles stood up like fat eggs in a carton. He didn’t seem to mind that his dark patch of pubic curls were on display, as well. “Wait, I gotta pump ‘em up. Watch this!” He jumped off the chaise and lay flat on the deck, did a fast set of ten sit-ups and then raised up and paused at a half way point. “Check it out!” “Damn. That’s awesome, Robert! They look like steel cables, all twisted up!” He split into a big smile of gratitude. The guy was hungry for praise, really vain about his body. I should have known any guy in his shape worked at it, it didn’t happen by accident. I wondered how accidental it was that his shorts had slipped down and every time he lay back the first inch of his cock was drawn up into the open vee of his fly? “Shit, I’d love to feel of that belly while you flex it!” “Come on, fuck it! Put your hand right here”, he slapped his stomach with a loud splat.” Damn, a couple more beers and he’d drop his pants, guaranteed! “Whoa!” I made all the silly noises of admiration I could think of, they came easily to my lips! His skin was warm and slick and the hard muscles underneath rippled like coils of a steel snake! He did a few more sit-ups while I felt of his stomach and the base of his dick thickened more, the shaft lifted against his moist denim shorts. The head was a clear imprint of circumcised perfection under the thin cloth. I can’t tell you how I managed to keep my hand from jumping the few inches and grabbing it! He flipped over on his stomach with no warning. Lay still. I jerked my hand back at the sudden movement, thought he was about to get up, but he crossed his arms under his chin. “You want to rub my back? I like it when somebody rubs it real hard.” “Sure, just relax. Let me ...” I got on my knees beside him, wanted desperately to straddle the slender hips but found a little control! “How’s that?” I made a long, deep stroke up from his kidneys to his shoulders, then another. He didn’t answer. I kept it up, building a rhythm of smooth, hard strokes. I kneaded his hard shoulders and the muscles behind his neck, went back to the long, deep back rub. Each stroke brought my hands lower on his back until my fingers were disappearing under the loose waistband and massaging the upper slope of buttocks. It will not surprise you to know I got a tremendous boner and my breath was getting short! I let one finger slide down in the slick groove between the full moons and ... He raised his head, “Better quit before I fall asleep.” He got up and sat sideways on the chaise. There was a much larger outline of shaft in his denim shorts. He glanced toward my neighbor’s back yard, “Didn’t mean to put on a show for free!” he grinned. “Nobody home, it’s okay.” I was still on my knees at his feet. My boner pressed out in a way that advertised my excitement. I didn’t believe ‘falling asleep’ was his fear, not with that bulge in his pants! He got another beer, popped it and lit a smoke. Okay, game over! When I stood up, I remained standing in front of his face with my tented crotch at his eye level. He closed his eyes, denial proclaimed, and lay back on the webbed lounge chair. I took my seat, opened a beer and let my breathing slowly return to normal. Did I really expect he would be that easy? “Hey, Dean?” first time he used my name. “Huh?” “Think I could come by one night? Watch a movie with you?” The cigarette dangled from his lips, smoke curled up like a veil over his face. “Hell yeah! You kidding? Of course you can. You know I’d enjoy that!” “I sure like fuck movies, any kind.” He reached inside his shorts, pulled his hard cock up to relieve the pressure and the deep rose tip peeked out his fly just before he closed the zipper, snapped the waistband shut. “Can you come back tonight?” My voice felt tight, strained in my throat. “I don’t know, I’ll try. Have to see what’s going on at home, you know.” He stood and stretched. “You pretty good at that back massage stuff, feels great. I pulled a muscle a few years ago, it gets to hurting sometimes.” “I’ve got some sports rub, lotion that heats up when you rub it in, great stuff. Next time, I’ll use some. It melts your spine!” “I better get moving. It’s my Mom’s birthday; I have to go find a present, flowers or something.” He pulled on his shirt. “Thanks for the beer, and everything.” He held up the pack of cigarettes and smiled. “Here you go,” I handed him some folded bills. He fanned open the three twenties, grinned. “Sixty?” “A bonus, for your Mom’s birthday.” His eyes probed mine with an intimate awareness, “Thanks, man. I can sure use it!” He laughed, sudden and gleeful, punched playfully at my belly. “My favorite customer!” “Don’t forget, tonight?” “Hell, I ain’t gonna forget!” he grinned, “Just hope I can get away!”

Guess he couldn’t get away. I felt like a fool for expecting him. No phone call, of course. Hey, I’d been hustled by better. All it cost me was an extra twenty and a little disappointment. The back rub was worth it, gave me some great wet-dream fuel. The following Friday, he came to cut the grass while my brother was visiting. We sat on the deck and talked, watched Robert earn his forty dollars without a tip! I didn’t offer him a beer, even thought Hal and I had one. He glanced up at us a couple of times, thirst in his expression, but I ignored him. I took a very sadistic pleasure in disappointing him for standing me up. What do they say? “Payback’s a bitch”, right? It was nearly eleven that night when he tapped at the sliding glass door. I jumped like a frog! I could just make out his face behind the dark glass. I grabbed up the knit afghan from the sofa to cover my boxers, an old habit of modesty, and let him in. “Hi, what a surprise. I didn’t hear your truck.” He came in with a conspiratorial grin. “I walked. Waited until my family was asleep, so they wouldn’t be asking where I was going, you know how it is.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I got a dead battery on the truck, anyway; got to come up with about fifty bucks somewhere to get a new one. It’s tough, can’t make any money without the truck. Leaves me in a tight, see?” “Well, I can imagine. Must be ...” “You ought to close the curtains if you gonna sit around in your drawers!” he smiled at my wrapping, “Nice skirt!” “I never thought anybody would want to peek at me, can’t see in unless you come right up on the deck!” But I closed the drapes, anyway, and tossed the afghan back to the couch. “You don’t mind me showing up like this?” He stood there a little tense, an anxious smile. “No, it’s all right, really. Sit down! Want a beer?” “You kidding? Always! What cha’ watchin’?” He went right to the TV, stood uneasily, rocking on his heels. “Some ol’ rerun, Hopper, I think. Sit down.” I went for the beer, absurdly aware of my near nudity. But he was right, the afghan wrapping was silly. Maybe I should put on my pants? Fuck it, he chose to surprise me in the middle of the night, not my fault! I went back in the den, he was still standing in front of the TV, his oversized tee shirt lay on the carpet. His red satin gym shorts were hardly more clothes than my boxers. “I was, uh, kinda hot. Long walk, you know?” I handed him a beer and sat on the couch, he sat beside me and kicked off his sneakers. “I’m just making myself at home! You don’t mind?” “Please. I’m not formally dressed, myself!” “I was lying in bed, watching TV. Kept thinking about this big old screen. I couldn’t sleep, worrying about where I could find fifty dollars, figured I’d just come by; see if you’re still up. I won’t stay if you wanna get some sleep, don’t mean to barge in.” He scratched at his crotch, managed to pull the satin tight and clearly outline the heavy equipment underneath. “It’s all right, Robert. Don’t worry. I’m really glad to see you and you know it!” He lay his hand on my bare thigh, squeezed, “Thanks, that’s what I wanted you to say!” He leaned back and took a long swallow of beer, “God, that’s good! Something else I was thinking about, lying in bed! Thinking how you might give me a beer if I came over!” His smile was teasing. Sure, I wanted to ask if there was something more he thought about, lying in bed ... I bit my tongue. “Hey, do you know Keith Dunning? Lives on Park Drive? He’s about your age, drives a green Volvo?” his fingers teased at the hair on my inner thigh. “I know him when I see him. He’s new, moved in last year.” “Yeah, that’s him. He offered me fifty, one time, you know, he wanted to blow me.” So, this was a cash offer? Why was I surprised? “No shit? Did you let him?” He looked around as if to check for anyone in earshot grinned and whispered, “Yeah!” checked my eyes for a reaction, ducked his head when I stared at him. “I needed the money, you know? He wanted it.” “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I’ve sold my dick, when I was young, when I was broke.” “Really?” His eyes begged for reassurance. “Yep. When I was in the Navy. Guys proposition sailors all the time. Everybody knew we stayed broke, didn’t make enough to say, ‘no’. Nothing wrong with it. He gets what he wants and you get what you need.” His hand was very still on my thigh, waiting, “Are you going to see Dunning, tonight?” He removed his hand. “I was thinking about it. But I never liked him, much. He didn’t never try me again, after that first time. Guess I didn’t have what he wanted, huh?” Hands in his lap, head down. “I don’t know much about it, gay stuff. It makes me nervous. I, uh, I couldn’t cum for him. Hell, I couldn’t even keep it up! I didn’t know what I was doing.” I laughed at his. ‘poor little me’, act. “Cut it out, Robert!” I put my arm around his shoulders and shook him, “I ain’t buying that! You’d cum for anybody with the money! I bet you were surprised how good it felt, didn’t know you’d like it, did you?” His sly grim peeked out under long lashes, “The bastard was good! I though I got tangled up with a vacuum cleaner!” We laughed, together. His hand went back to my thigh, imploring and uncomfortable. “But he didn’t ask no more. I don’t know what I did wrong. Guess my dick’s too little. He even got somebody else to do his yard, I lost a good customer.” “You didn’t do anything wrong, man. And your dick’s big enough for anybody! He just got embarrassed. It happens. I didn’t know he was gay. Guess nobody knows and he wants to keep it a secret. He just got scared of you, that’s all.” “Shit, I wasn’t gonna blackmail him or nothing! I got kids, I don’t want no talk going around about me, either!” “How long has it been? Since it happened?” “Couple of months I think.” “Let him relax. Nothing happens and he’ll get over it, he’ll call you back. Don’t sweat it. I’ll give you the money for a battery. You don’t need Dunning, you’ve got me.” His hand squeezed my leg, “You all right! I mean it! You got me, too, anytime!” He pulled my hand to his lap, “You want this?” “Do you want me to?” “Hell, yeah, I want you to! Don’t it feel like I want it?” I cupped my hand around his hard shaft; the satin was moist and warm. He wore nothing under the shorts. “Yeah, it feels like it needs to get out.” “Fuckin' right!” He stood and shoved the shorts down to his knees, turned to stand directly in front of me, hands on hips. “Get all you want! I can cum as many times as you make me!” It was the purest form of male sex, just a hard dick and a hungry mouth. No romance, no coyness. His dick was a near copy of my own, just larger than average, maybe seven inches or more, with a wide flared head and a high domed tip. Even the thickness, the gentle curve, felt familiar in my grip, felt natural. He kept his hands on his hips until I reached around behind him, squeezed his ass and slid my fingers down his crack. He bucked against me, then, grabbed my head. I pushed his shorts down to the floor, he kicked them off, spread his legs wider and my fingers wandered down into the cleft, lightly touching his wrinkled asshole and pressing up between his legs, up against the lower base of his cock, exploring the secret places.

He responded to the anal stimulation with low moans, air hissed between clenched teeth. I knew with the wisdom of experience that he had a few secrets left, maybe even secrets from himself. When the contractions began, deep in his roots, he tried to push me away, “Fuck, watch it, I’m cumming! Aw, shit, ah! Oh, yeah! ... oh ... oh.” He rode it down easy, stroking with me as I drained him, pressed upward along the underside to empty him. “Damn! My bones are melting!” he giggled and flopped down beside me, sprawled out and lay back, dropped his head into my lap. “Light me a smoke?” He coughed. “You can’t breathe, yet!” We laughed. I stroked his chest; a light sweat had broken out. He was damp all over. “Did you like that?” “I just did it for you.” he grinned. “You’re such a liar!” I pinched a nipple, he groaned. “Tell me it was the best, ever.” “Yeah; can I have the rest of your beer?” He reached the bottle and drained it. His head rolled back on my still pounding cock. “You tried to pull out. Didn’t anybody ever swallow it before?” I stroked down to his navel, across his hard belly. “Nawh--first time. Nice, thanks.” His eyes closed, he sighed deeply, relaxed. “I’m still hard.” I told him. “Yeah, I feel it.” His eyes popped open, “You wanna jerk off?” He tried to rise up. “No, it’s okay. Feels good, your head laying on it.” “Feels like laying on a rock!” He reached behind his head and pulled my cock up to the vertical position, gave it a gentle stroke, and lay back with me sticking up beside his cheek, thin cotton between us. “It’s wet. Did you nut?” “No, I just leak like a drippy faucet.” “Me too. I get hard and I start dripping. My brother, he stays dry as a bone!” He was talking slow, like half asleep. I wanted to know more about his brother, how he happened to know the guy stayed dry? I wondered at the casual way he touched my cock, and about how he could relax with my cock pressed against his face. I needed to rethink my definition of “straight” or move Robert to another category!

Sleep was tugging at him, his eyes looked heavy and swollen. He rolled towards me, wrapped his arms around my waist, shoved my cock aside with his chin and pressed his face to my stomach. His knee came up, his buttocks spread wide. He gave a deep, satisfied sigh, completely relaxed and at ease. I was sure he fell immediately into sleep. I pulled the afghan down off the back of the couch and covered his legs, up to his waist. It was nice; not very sexy but pleasant and intimate. I couldn’t reach my cigarettes, but managed the remote, found a M.A.S.H. rerun and fell asleep, my hand on his butt. When he stirred in my lap, I checked my watch, it was four o’clock. My legs were numb and tingling, I had to piss. He sat up, bleary and frowning, rubbed his face. “I’m going to bed,” I told him, “you want to stay?” “Yeah,” he replied with sort of a growl. He lit a cigarette. I turned off the TV, went to the bathroom, and pissed a gallon. He was sprawled on the bed, naked, finishing off the smoke. I left the bathroom light on, killed the bedroom light. Dropped my shorts and lay beside him. “Here, you want it?” He passed me the butt, “I gotta go.” I thought he changed his mind, decided to make the trek home, but he just went to piss. I peeled the blanket down, held it up for him when he came back. He crawled in and nestled against me, arm across my chest, leg over mine with his soft cock pressed on my thigh. I kissed his forehead, he kissed my shoulder. We were out, again. Daylight, I raised my arm to see my watch. “What time is it?” he mumbled. “Six-thirty. Do you have to get up?” “Hell no, you?” “It’s Saturday, I’m off.” I stretched. “Good. I need to get up about ten. Get my battery. I got a job after lunch.” “I’ll wake you, go back to sleep.” “Mmm, ‘kay,” He rolled away from me, then scooted back into the warm pocket, naked butt against me. I rolled towards him, formed a spoon and he wriggled into the curved space, our knees bent together. My arm went over his side, hand to his chest. He pushed it down to his crotch. I cupped his soft dick. He sighed. I worked my lower arm under his neck, he rose up for me, sank back on the pillow of my shoulder. It was an old, familiar feeling. It was the way I always slept with my wife, except I cupped her breast. My dick seemed to recognize the position, body memory? I grew hard and pressed into the cleft of his ass. He snored quietly and I didn’t have the energy to consider options, I went to sleep. I guess I wasn’t used to sleeping in tandem, too many nights alone. I woke, again, with the sunlight bright and warm. Robert had collapsed forward and I lay almost on top of him, my leg between his. I’d lost my grip on his cock but felt it rampant and warm at my fingers. My own cock was hard, too, and lay in his wet channel, I’d been leaking for some time. The sheet beneath my hand was damp, he was dripping too. He wasn’t snoring; his breathing was short and rapid. The skin of his back was hot to my chest. I’d never been much of a top man, I didn’t feel the erotic potential of a hairy ass hole was equal to a woman’s equipment.

Most of my experience with men was just oral and masturbation. But, still, I liked the thought of arousing a man, stoking his desires and sharing his passion. There is some element in gay sex, of sharing identities, of stealing fire ... so I flexed my pelvis against Robert’s ass, moved my cock in his warm groove and he pushed back against me. I pressed down; he gripped with his butt cheeks. I heard his breath catch in his throat. I began a slow rhythm, a sliding back and forth across his ass hole. I kissed the back of his neck and he opened his mouth to the flesh of my bicep.

His tongue roved, avid for the salt flavor of skin. He shifted beneath me, pushed his cock down between his legs, shoved my hand aside to lay flat on his belly and push his pelvis into the mattress. My cock head thrust against the back of his nuts with every plunge, he squeezed his thighs, gripping mine. He reached back and pulled my leg out of his way, I straddled him and he gripped my cock with hard muscles and wet buttocks. I fucked the channel and pounded his balls; he groaned aloud and twisted his head, rearing up against the resistance of my weight. I had to pull my arm out from under him, get my elbow for balance.

He held my hand to his face, sucked my thumb into his lips and put his cheek in my palm. There was nothing experimental about his reactions, no spontaneity. This was an act he had eroticized from long habit, knew exactly the placement of limbs to give him the most arousal. This was a practiced, animal lust. I thought he must be expecting me to penetrate him, to complete the act. I used my fist to guide my cock, I rubbed it hard on his anal pucker, found the hole and shoved forward, just penetrated his tight sphincter ...

He froze, groaned, pressed his thighs together, grunted, “No, I can’t take it... it hurts! Pull out!” His body was steel tensed, all over. I eased it out and it slipped down between his legs, “Yeah, right there! That’s it.” He sighed, reached back for my hip, set the rhythm. “Come on, shoot it on my nuts. Yeah, get it!”

He led us faster, harder. I pistoned with him, not enough friction to get me off but I knew he was close. I pushed my hand back under his face, he took it, again, to the same position, sucked my thumb deep in his throat and moaned. When he hit his climax he reared back, his spine curved like a drawn bow, his butt lifted me off the bed. He tumbled me to the side and rolled over me to kiss my mouth, his tongue intruded, he sucked at my lower lip. His hand snaked down to grab my dick and he pumped a hard and fierce beat! His fire lit me; I loved his kisses, wrapped my arms around his head and locked him tight! His hand went between my legs, I lifted my knees. He stroked me, again, brutal and fast and I shot in a quick volley of short spurts. He milked me, massaged my balls, climbed half on top of me and held me. We were sated, spent and undone. I needed a week to think, to pry through all the layers of surprise, but right then I let go and relaxed.

I showered while he smoked, made coffee while he showered. I’d have to strip the bed, the sheets were a wreck! He was not a morning person. He couldn’t talk over coffee, he grunted. He put on the red shorts. “You can’t go out like that, there’s stains all over them!” “Fuck, I don’t care.” I tossed him a pair of jeans, “See if you can wear these.” “They too damn big! Ain’t you got some shorts? I hate blue jeans!” “Here, how about these?” He wore my khaki Dockers, they hung low but he was satisfied. “Where do you want to get the battery? Parts Plus? I’ll run you up there.” “Nawh man. I got to go home and make up some shit about where I was all night. I’ll say I got drunk; they’re always ready to believe that! Spent the night with some whore, maybe. Sure can’t tell them I was here getting my ass reamed, can I?” “What? Robert!” There was enough self-hatred in his voice to sink a battleship. “That’s a load of crap. Your ass is just as virgin as it was when you walked in; don’t make a fucking big thing out of it.” “You owe me more than fifty; we didn’t deal on fucking me!” “Why, you little bastard! I ought to make you pay me! You were the one wanted the fucking!” “Like you didn’t want to suck my dick? Okay, call it even, whatever you want. Fuck you, Dean, I’m outta here.” He slammed out the back door, ran down towards the alley.

Continued in Part 2 …