Gay Erotic Stories

It's a perfect job for a guy like me. I let my younger brother live in my apartment most of the year, and when I'm in town he moves back in with the folks to give me privacy. Generally speaking, I'm not home much. My profession as a plant breeding specialist demands that I do a considerable amount of traveling throughout the year in order to study climate and soil conditions which are conducive to enhancing the growth of our particular strain of rare flowering plants. It's usually timed pretty well too. For instance, I spent most of the months of January and February in either Hawaii or Costa Rica, both places far better than Minnesota (unless you're a snow-mobile freak!). It is with great anticipation that I make my regular trip to Hawaii, and it's not just for the good weather. Kelly Kahana is full-blooded Poly nesian, with dark sun-bronzed skin, jet black hair and the muscular body of a surfing beach-bum. Oh, one more thing....he's got nearly a foot of thick always-hard cock hanging between his legs. The first time I met him he was just out of high school and was working as a doorman at the hotel where I was staying. I made sure he was over the age of eighteen before inviting him up to my room, but can honestly admit that I might have done it anyway even if he weren't legal age. Except for his head and just a tiny black bush around his enormous cock, Kelly is completely smooth skinned. You'll learn soon enough that it's odd for me to be attracted to a guy like that, but from the moment I saw this young stud in the hotel lobby I knew I wanted him in my bed and up my ass-hole. For a dozen years I've been visiting the Islands, and this hot Hawaiian just gets better and better. Don't ask me why, but for some reason Costa Rica really does have a great climate for our product. It also has some of the most incredibly handsome men in the world. Take Carlos for instance. He's in his mid-twenties and causes an instant hard-on the moment I see him. The fact that he's married and has four children doesn't seem to bother him, so I don't know why it should bother me either. Unlike Kelly Kahana, there's almost no part of Carlos' body that is smooth. His whole muscular front, from neck to belly and below is thickly blanketed with silky black hair, and when he's completely naked you'd swear from a distance (even with good vision) that he must be wearing some kind of dark slacks. He's not quite so hugely hung as Kahana, and his cock is uncut. Each time I pull back that hooded foreskin and chow down on his big meat I get intoxicated with the aromas and flavors of his ripe sex-organ. It's not that he's dirty or anything, but the Central Americans have a different approach to eroticism and I bought into it the moment I first slipped Carlos a $100 to go back to my hotel with me. We've been getting together for the last couple of years each time I come to the country. In Minnesota they joke about there being two seasons....8 months of winter and then another four of bad sledding. It's not entirely true. I love being home in the summer, and the week between Christmas and New Years I'm always there. My folks (mom especially) think I haven't settled down because of the travel involved with my job. Perhaps my dad suspects the truth, and Jimmy (my brother who's just turned 20) knows that I'm gay. That's part of why he always goes home to the farm when I'm in town. He's not anti- gay, but he's also not interested in fooling around with me. Yeah, I've asked on more than a couple of occasions. Jimmy would probably be very upset if he had any idea about me and his high school football coach whom he idolizes (even two years after graduation). Buzz Daniels tips the scales at a very muscular 259 and comes across as a drill-sergeant to his students. I'm one of the few who can attest to just how gentle this giant can be when he wants to. Oddly enough, when the two of us get together a couple of times per year there's nothing gentle about our sexual coupling. I love getting up on all four, and having the big coach pound my ass from behind, and then I roll him over onto my bed and bounce up and down on his huge hard cock until we both come simultaneously....him up my aching hole and me all over his hairy upper body. I think if I told Jimmy that his former coach was gay and that we did it whenever we could, that perhaps my brother would go for it too. I know Daniels is hot for him, but I keep telling the big guy that my brother doesn't dig the man-to-man scene. "Give him time," Daniels said the night after Christmas, and I realized that I didn't want to share this big bear-stud with my brother if I didn't have to. Because their seasons are the opposite of ours, I often go to New Zealand and Australia during the winter months. Duncan McGuire reminds me a lot of the "Crocodile Dundee" character made famous by Paul Hogan. Perhaps it's just the accent though, because he's actually much more hand- some than Hogan. ...and certainly a lot hairier! No shit, when I first saw Duncan on that horse roping the cow I damned near came in my jeans right then and there. He was shirtless but you couldn't call him bare chested. Not with the thick blanket of brown-flecked-with-blond hair that completely coated his exposed body. I'm not just talking about the chest and belly either, but all the way up over his shoulders and completely over his back as well. Duncan's got a place in Sidney that overlooks the harbor and thef amous Sidney Opera House, though we don't get out much when I'm there. Why would I want to go sight-seeing when I can have this hairy bear of a man snuggled up next to me with his thick hard cock up my butt? Occasionally I've gone to Africa, although the climate there is generally too hot and too dry to support our plants. Sometimes that's what I research.....namely, why our plants DON'T do well in certain areas. Mombotu Ngana is the blackest black man I've ever met. He's also one of the most well-endowed males I've ever met. In my lifetime I've taken a few thicker cocks up my ass, but never one as long as this man from Kenya had. I didn't get a chance to actually measure it, except for the natural "ruler" I have built into the well-fucked opening of my ass-hole. It honestly felt as if he was pressing his massive dick right up into my belly from underneath, and when he came into me I swear there must've been a gallon of come erupt from his big black dick. I've only been with him once, but it was certainly a fuck to remember! The Netherlands are famous for tulips but the climate there is good for other plants as well. I've made a number of trips there and each time I'm in the country I look up Renard, who's French name comes from his mother's side of the family. Renard lives in Amsterdam and he knows all of the best gay sights in the city. I can't begin to tell you some of the places he's taken me, places where anything goes. I've left that country with my legs bowed out in both directions, my ass-hole aching for weeks from having some Dutch dick or (yes) even a fist up my butt. Like I say, anything goes in Holland. I love the Greek Islands, mostly because of the dark skinned, dark haired Greek men who inhabit them. While I have never had a legitimate reason to travel to that country for business I still make an attempt to get there whenever possible. Why do you think they refer to anal sex as "going Greek"? Hell, it's because so fucking many Greek men love their sex that way. Miklos is my Athenian lover, a man who can go for hours and hours without getting tired. And when he finally does reach his limit there are his brothers Alexis and Timos and their father Dimosthenese who are ready to take over where the last one left off. Generally speaking, men of the Middle East are incredibly chauvinistic and not very likable. Still, many of them are so sexy to me, mostly because of their coarse hairiness, that I can't resist them. While I've never been fucked by anyone so famous as Sadam Hussein I can tell you that I spent an incredibly great weekend with one of his recently fired body-guards once. You can't imagine the stuff he told me about the Libyan mad-man. Then again, you can imagine the way he filled me with his cock while I raked my hands all over his thickly haired body all weekend. The former Soviet Union has come a long way in the last few years. In the summer I visited a small village near St. Petersburg in which the only lodging available was in a small guest-house. Ivan was the man who ran the place, along with his mother and sister Sofia. Have you ever heard of the expression "Russian Bear?" Well, that's what Ivan was (is!). He's about as broad as he is tall, and he's coated with this blanket of dark hair that adds about two inches of depth to his already beefy frame. He's shorter than me by several inches but only in height. When it comes to sexual endowment, this man is about as big as any I've ever had. The first night I was there he came to my room and we didn't speak a word to one another. Language was a problem, but neither of us had trouble communicating in the international language of sex. I'm making plans to return to that village again next Spring. You can probably understand why I'm not very attracted to Oriental men since most of them are not very hairy. Nonetheless, I went to a gymnastics exhibition in Seoul, Korea recently and couldn't stop staring at this one athlete. He had muscles and ripples and bulges in all the right places, and I have to tell you that when he did his Iron-cross on the rings I actually shot a load of cum right in my pants. The business associates I was with didn't seem to catch on that I was so attracted to the young man, but at the conclusion of the competition I found myself actually being introduced to Taki Kim, the object of my earlier ejaculation. It turned out that he was an American, born to a Korean mother and a man from Washington state. Taki was in Seoul as a visitor, just like me. "Are you in training or something?" I asked him quietly, and he said that his coach would never know if he and I were to meet later on since we were staying at the same hotel. I've never had anyone (before or after that night) do the things to me that this extremely flexible athlete did. When he perched himself above my straight-up cock and did the Chinese splits down onto it I exploded as I felt myself enter him. Still, that didn't diminish either my arousal or his willingness to continue all night, and continue we did! Okay, Alaska in the winter is the pits with something like 23.5 hours of darkness per day. What that means is that on the other end of the calendar there's an equal number of daylight hours. I've never been much of an outdoorsman (until I met Mike that is!). He's fifty-six but looks like he's thirty-six and he's a grandfather five times over. The only thing that gives away his age at all is the fact that he's almost completely bald....but has been since age 34. There's just a fringe of dark hair around his ears, but that fringe extends right into the back of his shirt and damned near explodes after that. Mike's one of those hairy-bear type guys that just excite the hell out of me, and when he's stripped to the waist splitting wood for the fire I can hardly control myself. Hell, I seldom even TRY to control myself when I'm around him. His cabin is primitive by most people's standards and his life-style is "rustic". The first time we fucked he said he hoped I didn't want him to put on a condom because the closest place to buy one was 2 hours away. Needless to say, he doesn't have a TV set, but (also needless to say) there's no demand for anything to occupy us when we're together. I've never bothered to ask him about his wife, whether she's dead, whether they're divorced or whether they just live apart. Quoting Rhett Butler from "Gone With the Wind" ...."Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." Leaving Alaska in July is difficult but I manage to catch the rodeo circuit in Montana by doing so. Brick Barton is everything I ever fantasized about through my adolescence. He's big (about 6'6" and 290 pounds), he's muscular (a 50 inch chest and never able to connect the button on his shirt collars), and he's about the hairiest fucker I've ever met. No shit, people stop on the street and stare at the amount of thick black hair that spills from Brick's sleeves and collar. I once overheard a youngster ask his mother if my rodeo-riding fuck-buddy was a man or an gorilla. Yeah, THAT's how hairy he is! My weekly rendezvous with him is at the same time humiliating and exciting as hell. During my "vacation" time with him he has me do things like lick his boots clean, wipe his sweaty, hairy ass-hole dry with my tongue after he takes a shit and accept him pissing all over me when he feels like it. I love it! Especially at the end of every night when he allows me to climb into bed with him and suck his huge cock before he chains me to the bed-posts and fucks me so hard that I cry out for him to stop. Of course I NEVER really want him to stop and he knows it, so he doesn't. If my bosses had any idea how I spend my vacation time with Brick they would fire me on the spot, but it's none of their damned business is it, so long as I tell them what they need to know about the plant genetics. I called my brother last night to have him meet me at the airport. He does have my car after all, as well as my apartment as it's one of the pay-backs he has to do for me. St. Paul is hot in July, damned hot! and Jimmy is dressed in a tank top and a pair of cut-offs that show him at his best. Damn, he's filling out nicely isn't he? I can't help but notice how much hairier he is than me.... he get's that from mom's side of the family while I take after our dad. (Yeah, mom's brother Bob is a real hunk! I've made it with him since.....well, I shouldn't tell you!) In the car (I suggest that he drive) I can't keep my eyes off his furry muscular legs. Shit, I don't recall him looking quite so good last summer when last I saw him dressed this way. I guess a year can do a lot when you're 20 years old. If you want to know the truth, I was jealous of my little brother, of the fact that he looked like he did. He appeared to be growing a beard and I asked him about it. "Nah, I just got up late this morning and didn't bother to shave" he said. Aw shit, if this is just a day's worth of whisker, he really is like our uncle Bob. It wasn't until we got out of the car and he grabbed my bag from the trunk that I noticed the tattoo. Holy shit, it looked ggreat, the brightly colored image etched onto his left upper arm. I've always liked tattoos. Brick has one but you can't see it beneath all the hair that's grown over it. Once inside the house I saw Jimmy's bag sitting over in the corner, the bag he'd packed to return to the folks' house for the duration of my stay at my own apartment. "Hey Jimmy, how about you change your plans and stay here for a while, if you don't mind. I could use some company". "You mean it?!" he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Yeah I'd love to stay here instead of going out to the farm. Maybe we could.... well....um....do some stuff while you're home.....a Twins game or...." he stuttered and stammered, trying to come up with something that two ordinary brothers ought to be able to agree upon. "How about we call that big-dicked coach Buzz Daniels over here and the two of us take turns taking his cock down our throat or up our ass?" I suggested as an alternative, and Jimmy gave me a look of wide- eyed amazement. "Or better yet, how about we forget about him for a while and the two of us take a couple of days to get better acquainted....like two horny brothers ought to do?" I said. Yeah, I still do a lot of traveling, but when I come home now Jimmy never bothers to leave, and neither does Buzz. For most of the year my brother and his former coach live alone doing things I can only imagine. But what the hell, I'm off to all parts of the world doing things that few men even COULD imagine. Returning to the burly coach and my hunky brother (getting "burlier" by the day) is always worth the trip. Yeah!