Gay Erotic Stories

The bell rang insistently and I opened the front door to reveal two young men in their late teens or early twenties, one a slim but broad shouldered dirty blonde and the other, seemingly older, a more substantial, muscular brunette sporting a heavy five o’clock shadow.

“Hi, Mr. Acuff,” the older one said. “We have a proposition for you.”

I put the obvious response out of my mind. I knew these “kids” quite well. They were the Standish boys and had been my next door neighbors for ten years. I had watched them grow up. Their parents were jerks, but the kids were O.K. Both were fine students and terrific athletes. The younger one, Kevin, was a sprinter and, Kurt, a year older, was a vaulter. Both had been state level in high school, with Kurt taking the championship on the high bar, and Kevin finishing second overall in the 100 meters. Both had moved up to the University of Minnesota on athletic scholarships.

For several years, they had been employed in the summer by the company that cut my grass (and which also plowed my driveway in our cold, cold winters). Kurt, as always the more voluble, announced that they would be forming their own lawn care business with a bunch of friends from high school. He said that they could offer me a substantial discount on what I was used to paying.

The figure they quoted was about two-thirds of what I had been paying, but I was worried. I asked what would happen in September when they went back to school. Kurt assured me that other members of the consortium lived locally year round and would be available to cut the lawn until it became dormant in late October

Shit! I liked my lawn company but I couldn’t say no to these kids. When I called my regular lawn guy to tell him, he was cool. Apparently, this sort of thing happened to him all the time. Call when they wuse out on you, was all he said.

Three weeks later, I found myself surprisingly satisfied. If anything these guys did a better job than my regular company, especially trimming around the hardscape. They came in waves (no double entendre intended). The guy riding the powered standup mowers arrived first. Then the detail guys arrived about a half hour later to get into places with push mowers and string trimmers that the bigger machine missed. The Standish boys were nearly always on the finishing detail.

I probably got special attention because I was their next door neighbor, but even if that were not true, I was happy for other reasons. Instead of the grizzled losers I was used to see mowing my lawn, I got to watch a parade of hot young men wandering about my yard every week. May was especially hot that year. Global warming? I didn’t care. It meant that they all had their shirts off and sweat like…well… like men.

On this occasion, Kurt moved on with the cutting team leaving Kevin behind to finish the trimming. I watched him from my study. He had the lean muscular form of a sprinter, but with the larger rib cage of a distance runner and broad shoulders like his brother and father. His torso was absolutely hairless. His pecs weren’t heavily developed, but they made for chiseled, hairless planes with neat, pert nipples at the apices. If you looked closely you could discern a hint of a treasure trail made up of fine hairs nearly the same color has his body with its new golden tan. When he was done with his work at about 4:30, he came up to my patio door and knocked.

“Here, Mr. Acuff,” he said with characteristic sheepishness as he handed me my bill. Sweat dripped profusely down his face, torso and bare legs. All he wore were a pair of nylon running shorts and old running shoes with no socks. The shorts were soaked to below the waistband from the sweat running down his flat, muscled stomach.

“You look shot, Kevin,” I said. “How many more yards do you have to do today?”

“This was my last one. The others went to take the big equipment to the garage we rent. I’ll just throw the trimmer in my car and take it along tomorrow morning.

“Well then, c’mon in and have a beer.” I knew he was only eighteen or nineteen, but old enough to vote and old enough to die… In any event, he didn’t demur.

I like to keep the air conditioning on high. When Kevin stepped into the cold living room, he shivered and his nipples quickly stood pointed and proud from his chest.

“If you’re cold, we can drink on the patio,” I offered.

“Hell no,” he shot back. “I’ve had enough of the heat. I’ll adjust.” I offered to lend him a T shirt, but he declined. When I brought out the beers, I found him sitting on one of the two facing leather love seats. His sweat probably wasn’t doing the leather much good, but kids that age don’t think too much about those kinds of things. I didn’t much care, anyway. I was more interested in examining him. He was lounged with an arm across the back of the seat and his right ankle propped on his left knee. His shorts were loose enough to open slightly at the thigh and revealed that he was going kamikaze, with the tip of the sheath of his uncut cock dimly visible and resting on a very respectable pair of balls.

I gave myself a mental shake of the head. This was Kevin, for Christ’s sake! I raised my gaze to his face. Not much better. He was quite the beaut. Lean angled face. High cheek bones. He kept his blonde hair long and it suited him. I had noticed it all before of course, but only in an aesthetic way. (Yeah. Right!) Anyway, I found him looking at me with a wry smile. I asked him about school. Going well, he said. Good grades. Good friends. And the running? Not so good. Tougher competition than he’d ever faced. He only finished in the top three at two meets against weak opponents. Kurt was doing great though. Kevin thought that in two years, he’d be invited to tryout for the U.S. Olympics. There was no hint of envy—just pride in his sibling’s accomplishments. This was a damned fine kid.

I got us another beer. We talked some more. Then I brought out a third. Air conditioning or no, the beer was making me hot, so I unbuttoned the top three buttons on my shirt, revealing my dark mat of chest hair. Kevin squirmed in his seat, reaching down to adjust his junk. His shorts were tented now and his dark cockhead had crept out beyond his foreskin, closer to the bottom opening. I could not break my gaze. My own cock was rising and I too had to make an adjustment. Neither of us was talking anymore. For what seemed like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, we sat breathing heavily in silence. Then, he stood and walked over to me.

His cock was now nearly fully erect and had lifted the hem of his shorts on his left side. As he hardened further, they slid back nearly to the base, completely revealing his pendant sac. He straddled my knees and pushed his hips forward until the perfectly formed crimson head pressed against my lips. I opened them and took him in. My hands reached of their own accord behind him and clutched at his rock hard glutes. He grabbed two handfuls of my hair and leaned further into me. I felt the upper part of his cockhead slide across my palette until it pressed insistently at the muscles guarding my esophagus.

It would be easy. He had a healthy length—seven and a half inches (maybe a smidgen more)—but he was not all that thick. I pulled him into me and opened my throat to his unsheathed lance. As I worked his shaft, I unbuttoned my pants and pulled out my own cock: cut, about 6 ½ inches but thicker than his. Clutching my hair, he plowed my gullet in deep long strokes. I worked my throat muscles, trying to tease out his juices, all the while fumbling to get out of my clothes.

Interrupting my ministrations for a second, I pulled down on his shorts and they dropped to his ankles. When I took him back into my mouth, I ran my hands over his long muscled thighs, ending with them once again on his taught ass. One finger ran deeper until it massaged his clenched hole. I began to plan how to get him upstairs to my room … and to the condoms and the lube. Suddenly, he pulled away and his member plopped from my mouth. Just as I thought that it was time to make my move, he dropped to his knees between my spread legs. Expecting reciprocation, I was mildly surprised when he grabbed my legs behind the knees and lifted upward, not so much roughly as insistently. I slipped down in the love seat with my head awkwardly askew and my chin tucked tightly against my chest.

Kevin pushed my knees against my pecs and dove straight into my exposed opening. His tongue flitted tentatively at my rosette. I shuddered and my cock spasmed in response. After having had a taste of me, Kevin went deep. Gawd, he was good! As his nose and tongue explored my insides, I put all my new formed plans aside and enjoyed the experience. He went on like that for about five minutes. Precum oozed liberally from the tip of my member. When he pulled his face away, I had some idea of what was to come. He gathered the small pool, thin but sticky, from my belly and slapped it into my crack, working it well into my opening with a finger. Then, he slathered an equal amount of his own pre-juice onto the shaft of his tool and pressed the head against my anus. No condom; no lube. If Kevin was a danger to me, I didn’t care. As I tried to open for him, I knew it would hurt. I wanted it to hurt. And it did.

I tried to open up as he pushed into me, but his cockhead got caught on an non-lubricated fold of skin. Instead of pulling back, he pressed on, his bulb scraping my skin, trying to move me into me. I grabbed my cheeks and pulled them wide. He thrust forward, I screamed and, suddenly, he was in. His movement didn’t stop when the head penetrated. In one continuous motion, he lunged in until his hip bones slapped into my ass. A terrible cramp wracked my gut.

Sensing my pain, Kevin paused. I ran my hands over his shoulder blades and down his back. He tilted his head quizzically, looking into my tear filled eyes. I nodded and he pulled about halfway out. He followed with another hard thrust that ended with an audible slap of flesh. I dug my fingernails into his back, causing a visible wince. He withdrew until only the head was captured and plunged back in. The precum was largely gone and the scrape of flesh against flesh burned both of us. God, I had not had sex this raw in a dozen years! (And in prior encounters, I had been on Kevin’s end of the operation.)

When the boy next pulled back, I grabbed his ass and muscled him back into me. Again and again, I pulled him in with all my might. It was as if I were doing this to myself, causing my own pain and my own ecstasy. We had said nothing to one another since well before I had first taken him into my mouth, but our noisy breathing was synchronized with the motions of our bodies, heavily vocalized on desperate intakes and explosive exhalations.

Having decided that I could not take much more, I tried to make him cum, not quite realizing how close I was myself. Without warning I erupted in long ropey strings that hit us both in our faces and covered my chest and belly. He pumped a few more times before I felt the first rush of warm fluid inside me. The pain lessened almost immediately as the cum lubricated the interface between us. I was barely aware of the last half dozen thrusts he made to drain himself.

I was still pressed into the loveseat, knees to chest with my head bent awkwardly. Kevin, still hard as rock, leaned into me and began licking the jism off my face. I eagerly returned the favor. Only then did he withdraw, leaving me with an unexplainable feeling of emptiness, save for the liquid draining from my savaged pucker. Kevin licked the cum off my hair chest, then turned his attention to my throbbing asshole. He cleaned me of the effluent that had leaked out then gently tongued my raw muscle. It felt wonderful. Finally, he forced his tongue through the opening to draw out more from its container. I pushed gently to give it to him.

When he withdrew his face from between my legs, he stood and turned me lengthwise on the love seat so that my head was resting comfortably on one heavily padded arm and my legs draped over the other. He sat down next to me on the edge of the seat and I shifted over to give him a wider perch. He smiled and bent down over my face. When I opened my mouth to accept his kiss, he released a large volume into my mouth. Apparently he had saved it all: my cum, his, and whatever else he had scooped up. Using our tongues, we exchanged the pungent brew for a few seconds, before we both swallowed. He pulled away, regarded me intently then brought his face down to kiss me again. Something in my peripheral vision caused me to glance toward the patio door.

There stood Kurt with a look of absolute fury on his face.