Gay Erotic Stories

Google defines a Svengali as “a manipulative character from the novel Trilby by George du Maurier, who through hypnosis and psychological control, dominates and exploits …The name has become synonymous with a person who exerts undue influence, often with negative intentions over another.”

Troy fitted to the T the above description. You see, I came to Hollywood at thirteen and became a child star. A kind of Mario Lopez scenario. My talent, freshness, handsome youthfulness and charm earned me many roles from casting directors. When I turned nineteen, having scored many gigs on the silver screen and television, I was already a household name. I had millions of fans across the world and dated quite a number of famous names from royalty to Hollywood starlets. My Instagram and Facebook following across the globe was in millions.

My sexual prowess was legendary, especially the talk about the size of my penis. I once dated a reality star that told me point blank on our first meeting that she just wanted to know if the whispered rumors were true. When I had sex with her that night, she insisted on taking a picture of my hard manhood and stored it in her phone. She said it'd be something to remember me by. She would call me occasionally for a secret gateway in her husband’s condo at Hollywood boulevard to service her pussy whenever he was on a business trip. He was on such business trips a lot! There was a rumor mill claiming that he swings both ways. That he had a young male model stashed somewhere as his lover in London.

Anyway, on my nineteenth birthday, I didn't feel like partying but a rapper known for his wild parties invited me for his own party that coincidentally fell on the same day as mine. I'd heard about the wild nature of his parties, but knowing the calibre of the people that would likely be there, I decided to attend. When I reached the mansion around midnight, the party was already in full swing. A popular DJ was blasting out a selection of beautiful music of all times. Most of the guests were in high spirits. Their loud banters, giggles and guffaws were evidence enough.

Topless girls that looked like Victoria’s Secret models swirled around with tall glasses of champagne on golden trays. I recognized many famous people in the media,film, music industries, and business sphere. After briefly greeting those I recognized, I grabbed a bottle of champagne from the open bar and slipped down to a secluded area. I sat down under a tree near the pool surrounded by coconut trees. I could hear the noise and music distantly. I took a swig of the champagne right out of the bottle. I was lost in my thoughts when I heard someone approaching.

“Hey man, why are you not enjoying the party?” A man that looked like a bouncer sat beside me. I recognized him immediately. I had seen him in one or two movie sets but I couldn't remember his exact name. “It's Troy, in case you have forgotten,” he said, smiling and extending a friendly hand. I sat upright. I shook his hand firmly. “Hi Troy. I just felt like being alone. Not wanting to be a party pooper,” I said lightly, taking another swig. “Hey, cheer up. Enjoy being nineteen. I was nineteen six years ago and I had the wildest party”, he said with a convivial air. “How did you know today's my birthday?” I asked sheepishly. “You are a big star, Roy. Your business is our business,” he replied humourously. “Are you a podcaster then?” I wanted to know. “Nope. But I delve into this and that.” He replied cagely.

There was something not so straight about him. My sixth sense warmed me instantly. He looked harmless, not all all intimidating despite his muscular six foot stature. He was very handsome in a sleek Hollywoody kind of way. Smooth and sleek. Wearing designer casual and having diamond studs on each ear lope with whorls of black hair neatly tied. He looked like a younger version of Jason Mamoa. We engaged in a small talk. He'd had always been my great fan, yadda yadda. I was politely answering his questions and drinking my champagne steadily. “It's hot”, he pointed out. “You know how California can be at this time of the year.” I rejoined. “Say, why don't we swim? The Olympic sized pool is empty. I'm sure the water will cool you down,” he said. “ It seems you need a little bit of excitement,” he winked at me. “I don't have any swimming trunks here…” “Don't worry, Roy. Neither do I. We are both men after all. We can swim in the nude.”

He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the pool. My champagne bottle was already half. He took it and drank straight from the bottle. Before I could say a word, he stripped and stood before me in his birthday suit. He was like a chiseled specimen. His chest was hard, hairy and broad. His stomach was flat showing hard six packs. Below the triangular shape of his black pubic bush was a healthy light tanned cock with a big pink crown. Two balls that looked like peaches hung low behind his maleness. He looked magnificent. My groin twitched. I was taken by surprise. I had seen my own share of naked men in my line of work (on or off set) but I'd never been affected by another man's nudity as I was feeling, looking at Troy.

He jumped into the pool and started swimming with the suppleness of a dolphin. I removed my clothes and jumped in top. The water was glorious. We swam, raced and after a while, we sat on the edge of the pool. “How do you feel?” He asked unnecessarily. “Refreshed,” I replied. “I told you”, he smiled, his white teeth flashing.

Our thighs touched and I felt a spark passing between us. He seemed oblivious. Or he pretended not to notice. He went on a tirade about some incident that happened during the last Cannes film festival. I was barely listening. My mind was on the present. Here we were, buck naked in a party known for debauchery. The scandal that could culminate if those hidden paparazzi should find us in such a compromising position! The realization made me to leap up and quickly dressed up with the speed of a guilty party. “Why the rush?” asked Troy following behind me. “Don't you want to swim some more?” “I think I should go home,” I muttered “Ok, let me take you home then. Or did you drive yourself here?” “No, a limo was sent to bring me,” I replied calmly. “You are a VIP. I don't think the celebrant would be happy if you sneaked out.” He said pointedly. “Then I'd have to send him an apology.” I replied.

He dressed up and we used the back door to his Range Rover. He set the car map and automatically my address showed and he drove smoothly. We continued with our discussion as he glided the vehicle to my place. When we reached my driveway, I came down, I began to feel the effect of the champagne. He killed the engine and came down as though expecting an invite “Would you like to come in for a coffee or something,” I offered half-heartedly. I didn't know but there was this gnawing feeling telling me to be wary. He accepted my invitation rather eagerly.

In my well decorated sitting room, he commented on the decor and made small remarks about how it was great to be a star and live a posh life. I made the usual polite replies and he sat comfortably on the sofa sipping the can of beer I offered him. I sat on the far end of the sofa. “You know, Roy, you are the type of actor that will last a lifetime. Like a male Hellen Mirren. Or better still, a Pierce Brosnan. These are actors that stand the test of time.” Why, thank you.” I said smiling broadly. “You made it sound as if we are a sort of commodity”. “Aren't you? To the big studios, that's what they think you are. Rare commodity indeed” he said. “But seriously, you are so attractive and you're such a world trade center handsome. The world just falls in love with you by merely looking at you.” He said deviously. Such effusive compliments made me blush. “Please don't be embarrassed. In Hollywood a man praising a fellow man is not unheard of. You should know,” he said with a secret smirk. I arched my eyebrows quizzically “Actually I'm deeply flattered”, I said rather gingerly. My ears pricked. I was wary of the direction the conversation was headed. “Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, edging closer to where I was seated. “To tell the truth, I'd always fantasized about you”, he blurted out without waiting for me to answer his question. I thought the alcohol in his system must be telling him tales. “I don't understand”, I said. “I mean I have a very huge crush on you”. His eyes looked defiantly at me. “Why, thank you”. I didn't know what else to say. “I think it's time we called it a day. I have a rather busy day tomorrow.” I said blatantly. “Tomorrow is Sunday. Who has a busy day on Sundays?” he teased. His hand was now lying on my thigh. In spite of myself, I felt my cock starting to grow. I looked at his face, it was flushed. Beads of sweat lined his wide forehead. His lips were wet and I felt my heart thudding.

He moved closer, his arm moving behind my neck, he planted a kiss on my lips. I didn't know how to react. I was electrified and I just sat there glued and unmoving. His kiss became harder and wetter. His left hand snaked into my chest and started caressing my nipples. They became really hard. I groaned and breathed heavily. I wanted to get up and put a stop to what he was doing before we reached a point of no- return, but another part of we just willed me to remain there and enjoy what was going on.

I had fantasized about gay sex a couple of times but never had the opportunity to indulge. And my fantasy involved a threesome with a girl. His hand left my chest and moved to my crotch. Feeling my hard member, he unzipped me and brought out my engorged black meat. “Wow!” He exclaimed. “So what they say is true,” he whispered.

His head went down and he engulfed my entire length in his mouth. He sucked my dick, cupping and squeezing my balls. I could not help it so I started thrusting in his mouth. He sure was a great cocksucker. He licked and sucked until I felt like erupting in his mouth. He then replaced his mouth with his hand. He jerked my cock hard and fast. My orgasm was earth shattering. Huge gobs of my seed shot up. He continued jerking me off until the last drop seeped out. He then brought out a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned me up. Then he put the handkerchief in his back pocket. “This is my souvenir from Roy”, he said playfully.

He led my right hand to the mound on his crotch. He was hard. His pecker was clearly big by the feel of it. I squeezed gently feeling the power of his head straining to burst open his fly. “That's how hard I'm for you. Do you have a condom?” He whispered in my ears. “Yes,” I answered as if hypnotized.

I went inside the bedroom. When I returned with a packet of condom, he was completely nude with his turgid penis sticking from its root. He took the condom, tore it with his teeth, and rolled it on his engorged penis. He undressed me and climbed on top of me. I just lay there like a virgin, allowing him to kiss my eyelids, nose, lips, armpits, chest, navel and took me into his mouth again. My hard cock was well serviced. When he stopped sucking my cock, he opened my legs and I felt his tongue around my balls. After a few minutes of balls licking, he descended to my puckered hole. His hot tongue started reaming me. The feeling was so great I didn't know when I started moaning in ecstasy. His tongue prodded my chute and before I knew what I was moving my waist up and urging him to eat me more. I didn't want him to stop.

When he saw that I was in a frenzy, he positioned himself and guided his precummed lubricated cock into my sphincter. A wave of pain engulfed me but I was helpless to resist him. His meat inched in slowly until it was buried balls deep inside me. I was in delirium. The pain subsided as the ring of my anus adjusted to his invading shaft. He started spearing his rod into my tight hole gently. I closed my legs around him. That made him start to thrust harder until I started moaning loudly. He picked up pace and fucked me with precision. I loved every inch of what his hard cock was doing inside me.

Troy fucked me like I was a ten dollar whore. He undulated his waist in a circular motion, then delivered deep thrusts. My hand wanked my dick furiously. We went on and on, our bodies drenched in sweat. Troy kept on fucking me for what seemed like hours. We fucked in different positions. Eventually,we dropped on the rug. He turned me on all fours and impaled his tireless cock into me from behind. My hole clamped tightly to his unrelenting rod. He kept on plowing into me until I saw stars. I shot my cum again as his dick slammed hard against me. Then he shuddered, grabbed my waist and gave a final thrust. Hot jets of semen were sprayed deep inside me. He kept on cumming until at last, he withdrew his softening cock from my well serviced hole. My hole felt as if it was sprayed with pepper. Still, I enjoyed the sex. I went into the bathroom, cleaned myself and wore my pajamas.

When I returned to the sitting room, Troy was fully dressed with his phone and car keys in his hand. He looked satisfied with himself as if he had just won a lottery. He gave me a bear hug. “I will call you tomorrow, Roy. Goodnight.” He kissed me like a midnight lover biding his new babe goodnight.

The next day, Troy called me. He said we should meet at a certain restaurant uptown; that he had a good proposal for me. I thought it might be a contract with a movie studio or something related to that. I dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans. I wore flip-flops and drove my black Ferrari to the meeting place. He was all businesslike and throughout our lunch, he never made reference to our tryst the previous night. “I have a friend that wants to meet with you in his yacht,” he said as he ate his spicy paella. “Yacht?” I asked. “Yes. You might have heard of the Qatari billionaire, Al-Mustapha?” “The playboy?” I replied taking a drink of water. “Yes, one and the same. That's the moniker he's known for but he's actually a boy's boy. He can't afford to come out of the closet. To be gay in his country is to face a death sentence.” He took a sip of his red wine.

Realization hit home. That same sixty year old billionaire had graced the pages of People's Magazine, TMZ, Hello, GQ and countless online sites and magazines. He was always in one party or the other. He mixed with the creme la creme of the American, British, French and Spanish societies.Mostly in company of younger males and females. He always reminded me of High Hefner of Playboy game and his bunnies. “Why does he want to see me?” I was curious nonetheless. “I guess to fulfill his fantasy. He's been …” “Wait, what?” I interrupted. “He likes to mingle with A-listers, poster boys and powerful Hollywood royalty. He has been crushing on you since you made that big speech about cancelling the abhorrent cancel culture when you received your first Oscars award.” “Listen Troy, I always try to avoid such circles. The moment one starts hanging out with these people, it would distract one from focusing on one's ideals and beliefs.” I said matter of factly. “That's a shame. Hanging out with “these people” is the surefire way of ensuring the security of your career. They can press buttons from the White House to Buckingham Palace, you know.” “Still, I don't want to mingle in that circle” I said resolutely. “That's a pity. I spoke highly of you to him this morning and he really looked forward to seeing you.” “You didn't -???” I was appalled, thinking he might have divulged our stolen moment to the billionaire. “Nope. I never told him how hot you are in the sack. If he knows about our little secret, he'll send a private jet to whisk you away to Las Vegas right this minute.” I was relieved. “If there's nothing more to discuss, I think it's about time I headed home.” I stood up. “Come on Roy. Don't be such a hard ass. Give it a thought and get back to me. Believe me, you'll be the better for it. I will also be the better for it,” he winked at me with a mischievous smile. "Yeah, right," I scoffed. With a perfunctory nod, I left Roy still sitting in the swanky restaurant.

Apparently, Troy wanted to pimp me out to the billionaire. I wondered if they had a bet or he had a commission from the deal of delivering me to the billionaire. I had heard many unsavoury tales about these tycoons. They used young celebrities as toys. Once you fall into their web, there is no easy way to crawl out of it.

My phone beeped. It was a message from Troy. I drove on. When I reached home, I took a luxuriating bath and lay naked on my bed. I felt like calling my on and off girlfriend, Lorraine Batch but thought better of it. I was tempted to call Troy for another round but remembering his so called proposal, I refrained from that too.

I took my phone and opened the message he sent. It was a video. I played it. A scene flashed on. It was Troy banging me furiously while I moaned like a bitch in heat. I was mortified. How did he record us? Then I remembered it must have been when I went to get the condom that he must have set his phone camera to record us. My world came down crashing hard. I was horrified. How could I be so stupid. I'd always liked making love in the dark just in case of situations like this. I guessed I was carried away by the novelty of the whole situation, thereby losing my guard. I bit my lover lip so hard I tasted blood.

This was blackmail. Next, I knew he'd threaten to release the video if I failed to play ball. He'd really got me by the balls.

I closed my eyes thinking of what else to do. This kind of a situation had forced people to commit suicide or murder the blackmailer. I never contemplated suicide in my life and I would never kill another being. So I resolved to play along. I would beat him at his own game, I decided with a firm resolution.

“I saw the video. The lighting though was a bit poor. It's better than the sex tape of Dae Ray and Jim Karl Dorshian” I told him over the phone the next day on my way to work. “I hope you are not mad”, he sounded contrite but I knew it was just an act. “Nah. But I I wish you had told me prior, I'd have arranged a better lighting with background music.” I said sounding offhandedly. Two could play the game. “It's going to be safely tucked in my safe, sweet Roy. I swear I'll never leak it as long as you play ball. If you agree to meet Al-Mustapha, we will take in real dough bro.” He cajoled me.

So, my conclusion was right. I played along. He set a meeting for next weekend with Al-Mustapha on his yacht. The yacht that he had named ‘Mermaid.’