Gay Erotic Stories

You might think being born with extraordinary good looks would be a blessing! Well, think again! My mother was a beautiful professional model and my father was a tall, slim, handsome athlete - a swimmer at college who almost made the Olympic team. They were a great looking couple, everyone said, picture perfect, and I was their son - a chip off the old blocks, you might say. When I was little, my mother thought I was ‘pretty’, and dressed me in unisex clothes. “Isn’t he cute!” she would say to her friends when they came calling. I usually hid in my room, but she often called me out to be paraded before them - “My little ‘love god”, she would say. “He’ll be a lady killersomeday!” Most people seeing me for the first time thought I was a girl. I had long hair - mother used to curl it and let it grow long. Even my name, Michel (a French name that sounds exactly like Michelle - the female form of the name) helped to complicate matters. We weren’t French. My mother just liked the sound of the name, so it was given to me. Not much I could do about it. At elementary school, because of my long hair and clothes, some kids actually thought I was a girl, and even those who knew I was a boy often teased me and said I was really a girl. I was always getting into fights on the playground just to prove I wasn’t. In junior high, when young pre-teens were flirting with love and sex and not really understanding it all, the girls all wanted me for their boyfriend. They used to phone me after school. Sometimes they would talk to me but often they would just giggle and then hang up. I hated them all, the silly cows! I found myself being attracted to the boys, not just because, like my father, I was good at sports, but because of something deep inside me, something I did not understand, that made me blush when I knew they were looking at me in the locker room at school. I had nothing to be ashamed of, in the penis department, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was quite well endowed, even in those early, pre-pubescent days. I wasn’t circumcised, like some of the guys were. My father wouldn’t allow it even though the doctor said everyone was getting it done. “Not my son,” he exclaimed. Well, as I said, most of the boys were circumcised, so that was just something else for them to stare at in the locker room - my penis as well as my face. At least they stopped calling me a girl! Senior High was Hell! By then, I was pretty sure I was gay, but in a small town like ours, gays were fags and fags were less than human! Once there was a fag from out of town who tried to pick up a couple of local fellows at a bar. He paid for their drinks, told sexy stories, and then tried to get them to go to the motel with them to have a little fun. They went as far as his car, and then they beat the shit out of him, stole his money, and took off in his car. It was found the next day upside down in the river just outside of town. The fag didn’t press charges. He just moved on. As I said, I knew I was gay, but I wasn’t a fag. I didn’t try to pick anybody up. I tried to act as normal as everyone else. No way was I looking to become a target! I dated girls, sometimes, but usually managed to avoid too much intimacy - beyond kissing, and grabbing a bit of tit, for example. I would say my mother wanted me home early, and that usually worked. Even so, some of the fellows knew, mjust by watching me. I would look away, for example, when they were naked in the dressing room after soccer practice where they would chase each other around, flicking towels and all that kind of stuff. I was so afraid I’d spring a boner if I looked at them, that I usually turned my back to them while we were changing. I thought Billy, the captain of the team, tried to check me out once, but I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, so I didn’t bite - pardon the pun! So I got to college, a virgin. It was the first time I would live away from home, away from my mother, and I didn’t know what would happen, but I really wanted to find out if I really was gay or not. I had sort of forgotten about my looks - everyone at home was used to me, and even the girls, getting little encouragement from me, looked for greener pastures. So it was a shock to me when I noticed heads turning at registration - and not just the other Freshmen, but some of the professors were downright rude - staring at me, and forgetting about assigning me my courses, at least momentarily. A couple of them, probably gays, gave me their phone numbers in case I wanted some extra tutoring as the year progressed. I smiled, and they blushed. I knew what special tutoring they had in mind. After registration, I picked up my room key and headed for my residence - Henry Hall, the old fashioned one right smack in the middle of the campus. It was all Freshmen there - the upper classmen got the newer residences a bit off from the centre, and with a bit more privacy. This old building had an elevator, though, which was a great help in moving my stuff to the fifth floor. I made my way along the corridor, dozens of other Freshmen moving back and forth, many of them staring openly at me as they passed. Being unusually good looking is just about as bad as being horribly disfigured! It drew attention to you. Perhaps that’s not really fair. My father used to say it was a curse that most men would die for. I’d rather acne scars, or a bent nose, or something that would place me in the realm of the ordinary. Room 506 - the door was open, and there were things piled on one of the two beds in the room, but there wasn’t anyone around. I dropped my bags on the bed, hung my jacket in the closet, and went looking for the can. It was about two doors further on, and there were three or four guys pissing in the urinal as I went in. I walked up to the urinal near the end and pulled out my cock. Within a second or two, I was pissing a long, hot stream against the white enamel finish. As the other guys finished, they looked over at me, but not one of them said “hello” or “nice day”. It doesn’t pay to be too friendly with total strangers in the toilets. The last fellow to finish turned toward the door just as I finished and pulled my zipper up. He started walking towards the door, but nearly ran into the wall. I grabbed his arm just as he was about to hit it, face first. “Damn,” he said. “I was sure I knew where the door was!” I looked at him again and then I noticed the fixed gaze of his eyes. He was blind. “Thanks for the help,” he said, with a grin on his face. I’ll do better next time.” “No problem,” I said, and I turned back to wash my hands. A minute later, I walked down the corridor towards my room, wondering who the guy was. I didn’t have to wonder long. As I entered my room, he was standing in the middle of it, pulling his shirt up over his head. I stopped and watched, admiring his chest, and noticing the slight blond fuzz that covered it. As the shirt came off over his head, I notice that his head was covered in rich, curly blond hair as well, and that he was just a little bit shorter than I was - about 5’11” to my 6’1”. As soon as he got the shirt off, he stopped and sniffed the air. Then he reached out his hand. “Hello again. You must be my room mate. My name’s Brad. What’s yours?” I was amazed that he recognized me by my smell. I hadn’t said a word, so that was all he had to go by. It had to be my smell. I sniffed the air, but couldn’t smell him, or even myself for that matter. I guess when you use your sight all the time, you don’t develop your other senses. “Michel,” I said, grabbing his hand and shaking it. Brad squeezed my hand firmly, and held onto it. “I took the bed by the window,” he said, but we can trade if you’d rather have it. I like to sleep with it open at night.” “No problem,” I replied. “The bed by the wall is fine for me. My bed at home was like that too.” Brad had still not let go of my hand. I felt kind of weird. As if sensing it, he released his grip. “Sorry about that,” he said. “It’s just that I kind of get to know a person better if I can touch them.” “And smell them,” I added. “Yes,” he laughed. “Sorry if that sounds rude. I don’t go up to people and start sniffing them, but I generally remember a person by his smell - you know, what kind of deodorant he uses, and that sort of thing. I have a good memory for scents. I can usually tell if someone I know walks into the room. You smell great, by the way. Just the right mix of deodorant and B.O.. Been at the registration, all day, I take it. What courses?” “I’m hoping to be a Maths major, so I’ve got a Calculus, and a Linear Algebra, as well as a Chemistry, a Physics and an Arts elective - British History, actually.” “Hey, that’s great,” said Brad. “I’m in Arts, with a Major in History. I’ve signed up for British History too. Who’d you get for a Prof?” “MacKenzie,” I replied, remembering him as one of the men who had offered tutoring if I needed it. A middle aged man, slightly gray, and slightly overweight, but a nice smile and a pleasant voice. “Hey, me too!” We’ll have one class together anyway. I moved towards my bed, and the pile of stuff that had to be put away, and Brad moved towards his side of the room, but he wasn’t through talking yet. “I hope we’re going to be friends,” he said. “I like the sound of your voice.” “I hope I sound better than I smell,” I replied, and he laughed. “Don’t take what I said the wrong way. I think you smell great - a little B.O. makes a guy smell sexy.” Brad blushed when he said that, and turned to pick up one of his cases. “Want me to help you with that?” I asked. “No need. I’ve been blind all my life. I’m used to hanging my own clothes up, once I find the closet, that is.” I took his arm and led him towards the closet. I breathed in deeply, trying to see if I could pick up his scent too. Very faint, but I thought I could smell him. I think he knew what I was doing, because he laughed. “I smell better after I’ve had a shower too,” he said. Let’s get this stuff sorted, then hit the showers before we go for dinner.” “Good idea,” I said and we set to it. Within ten minutes, all my stuff was put away, and I moved over to help Brad with the last of his stuff. “Thanks, Michel,” he said when we finished. “Now for that shower. Coming?” “You bet. I’ll just get my things.” I picked up my towel, shaving gear and shampoo and turned to find Brad dropping his pants and underwear right in front of me. I felt a little guilty, taking advantage of his blindness to stare at his naked body. He had a very thick cock, soft, about five inches long, with two large balls hanging down behind. I could feel a bit of swelling in my own cock as I stared. I think Brad knew I was looking at him. “You can look, but don’t touch,” he said, and then laughed. “With me, I have to touch but not look!” He laughed again, but this time it was more forced. We both recovered, and I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my shirt, dropped my pants and grabbed my towel in time to follow him out of the room and down the hall to the showers. It was hard to believe that he was blind. He just walked right along then turned and entered the showers. “How did you do that,” I asked as we stepped under the nozzles and turned on the flow of hot water. Brad stuck his head under the spray, rubbed his fingers through his hair, and then shook his head back and fourth before answering. “I checked it out before,” he said. It’s twenty-four steps to the can, then eight more to the showers. Going the other way, its another twenty steps to the elevator. I memorize where I am fast. I’ve always had to do it, so it comes easy.” We continued to talk as we finished up our shower, dried off a bit, and then headed back down the hall to our room. This time, Brad closed the door. He stood in the middle of the room and continued to dry himself with the towel. He did his legs and feet, staggering slightly as he did and nearly fell into the corner of the desk. I reached out to steady him, and found myself with my hand on his waist. “Thanks,” he said. “You hand feels good. Smooth. I get to know people by touching them,” he said, repeating what he had said earlier. This time he looked right at me - not looked, but you know what I mean. But it was as if his eyes could see me and he was looking right into mine. I felt a wave of testosterone pulsate through my body, and my cock gave a little lurch. “Hey, he said. “I didn’t meant to offend you.” “You didn’t offend me,” said. “Why did you think that you did?” “Smell,” said Brad. “You gave off a pretty strong odor just then. I thought you were upset by what I said.” “Not upset, intrigued,” I said, moving closer. “You can get to know me better if you want. Go ahead. I’m all yours.” “Really?” asked Brad. “You’re serious?” “Sure, go on. If we’re going to be room mates, we’ve got to get to know each other. I can see you - all of you, from your toes all the way up to your head. It’s only fair that you use whatever senses you need to use to ‘see’ me.” Brad stepped closed and put out his hand. I took it, and placed it on my chest. He felt my muscle structure, and then my nipples. They became hard under his touch, and he traced delicate little circles around them with his index finger. He reached both hands up to feel my face, my eyes, my nose, my chin, my ears. He drew his fingers through my hair, and put both arms around to feel my back. He moved closer, and then our cocks touched. Only then did I realize that he had a hard on too. “How well do you want me to get to know you,” Brad asked, with a catch in his throat. “I’d like to be your best friend, or your brother, or your lover,” I said. You decide. “I think I’ll go for the lover,” he said. “If you’re serious.” I reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “I think we’re already past the stages of best friends or brothers,” I said. “Do what you like.” “You too,” Brad said, kissing me back. He reached for my hand and drew it down to his patch of blond, curly hair at the base of his stomach. It was up to me to decide whether to go farther or not. It didn’t take me long. I took his hard cock in my hand and gave a gentle squeeze. When he moaned, and fell towards me, melting onto my shoulder, I squeezed harder. “I’ve waited all my life for you,” he said. “I thought I’d never find you,” I replied. Then we kissed again, long and deep. When the kiss broke, we hugged each other tightly. I moved him towards my bed, and we sat down, arms still wrapped around each other. He pushed my head back, until I was lying on the bed, then he began kissing my chest, teasing my chest hairs with his warm, moist tongue. He traced little circles around my nipples with his tongue, then licked deeply into my belly button. Moving still lower, he nibbled at my public hairs, then gave a long lick the length of my hot, pulsating cock. He found my balls, first one, and then the other, and sucked them into his mouth. I lay there while he explored me, and waited until he worked his way back up to my mouth for a deep warm kiss. My turn now. I tried to follow the path he had taken, but when I got to his cock, I was to horny to wait any longer. I rolled him over, mounted him, and began sucking on his cock. He reached up with his hand to find mine dangling in front of his face and drew it into his mouth. I began to buck at the hip, forcing my cock deep into his throat, and at the same time, trying to work his cock which was stiffening even more in my mouth. I could feel him convulsing, and I knew he was about to blow, but I didn’t release his cock. When the explosion came, I was ready for it, and suck his cum deep into the back of my throat, and then swallowed. The salty taste was enough to drive me over the top and I blew my load into his throat. He kept thrusting into me, and spurt after spurt of hot cum shot into the back of my throat. Gradually, his thrusts subsided, and finally, we collapsed, out passion spent. “God, that was wonderful,” I said. “I’ve never done that before.” “Never?” Brad questioned. “Then I’m glad I was the one who was with you for the first time.” I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him to me. “You are so beautiful,” he said, and I was not the least bit put out by it. He was talking about me, not my face. He found the real me, beneath the surface. And I found someone who would love me for myself, and not for my looks. I was never so happy in my life.