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Felling The Big Pine

by Billy Jay


The windows are open and a light cool breeze is blowing into my room where I'm stuck in a pile of books required for my Landscape Design 102 course. The finals are close and I have already shot half the weekend reviewing the course materials. It's Saturday night and I'm dull to the books, drifting into a dreamy thing that is a mix of this text which covers the varieties of pine trees and more, important to me, my need for Jeffrey. Pinus, Jeffrey I. P., Jeffreyi Jeffrey Pine. I drop into a non-study haze where pinus and penis get all mixed up. Only my Jeff, all six feet of him remains clear to me...and all six inches of his sprung P. rigida.... My desire for Jeff predicts that our relationship will go beyond the touching of our branches in the breeze. My P. rigida will meet his P. rigida and I will have my way with him laying my wood at his bungeana--P. bungeana with its bushy habit. My cock will be at his bung hole and when it comes to this he will be singing a canary song as I enter him. Oh, Strobus, Strobus et Radiata! Oh Jeff, you are a specimen which I shall plant well. I rejoice in your dark bark and your great height. You were so easy to get to know--you had that gracious relaxed way of being human that comes from good breeding. Jeffrey you are P. aristata, first class. Between your legs is something amazing: You have wood there that is long timber. You have a Lodge Pole Pine there whose wood you have let show in the changing room and that wood, like P. compacta, is hard and workable. Dropping your sweaty red shorts on the locker room bench was a treat you gave my eyes pretending that you weren't showing anything off. Penis pendula, pungent and ready. Thinking you were merely sending off sparks was a mistake in your thinking. You don't yet know that between my legs is a lightning bolt, 100,000 volts of sex electricity. Yes, I may only be a creamy-fleshed wannabe, but know this my, Jeffreyi, my shot will split your wood--fastigiata, fastigiata! My own meat has become P. Ponderosa. It is my in-the-pants P. oculis-draconis. My spirit is changed and I am taken by a lusty urge to walk down the hall to your room and shake your tree so that I may get free of this contorted game and just tell you of my need. It is time to end this dropping of dead seed so that we can release our true seed, alive, upon one another. Oh Jeffreyi, oh mugo, I am at your Slash Pine door. Let me in! You and I in the flesh will sting each other with risings of the Sugar Pine and the Bishop Pine. Take me in your arms. Let us strip one another and fuck. Flexilis! High cumulus clouds above us have a dark stormy warning in them, but let us fly into them anyway. I need to cum with you, in you, with severe wood spewing globosa--globs of cum. Let our tongues tangle. Let our lips press into hollows of our bodies where our seed lays strewn. That's it, let me put my hand around your pole as you, Jeff, play mine.


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27 Gay Erotic Stories from Billy Jay

A Durable Sex Life

A guy with a really hard slap-shot erection feels like his tool is bound with cinched-up thick leather straps and at the core of this bull-leather fuck tool he carries a totally awesome sensation like something is jammed down the center of his cock, an inflamed wire that spreads out with leads to both his balls, feeling like they're pulsing and radiating something that must happen,

A Major Fuck

Sir, Can I have a pull on your dick? Yes, but you must start out with the lightest touch you can. I like to feel it. I like to feel it good. Crunching down his boxers in a move devoid of strain, a move that was athletic and masterful, he exposed his organ and I almost took it in my mouth when I felt the shock that came from seeing his erection. He was a major and I was a

Andanda's Way

Pops, darts and twirls. Twinkling of half looks at one another. Longtime stretch of this partytime non-encounter is that he and I can't seem to get close enough to one another to satisfy the need to have each other in full view. What agony. I'm seeing enough that I have a drilled heat shimmering in my insides that is intensified by the absolute necessity to appear cool as I move in

Big Dick in Evenin' Time

Teddy was a pick-up artist, which was clear. And me, I stay clear of trickers--AIDS is big in my head and that's not my game, to die of AIDS. I'm always doing a self-test of what it is I think I'm doing when I head into a gay bar: I don't drink. I'll order a gin and tonic and nurse it with a big tip up front. Basically, I'm looking for a clean guy for some kind of relationship that

Different Strokes For Me And Franky

Wildwood was our target. The 'Coney Island' of South Jersey is what it is and is the only place to go when you want to hang out looking for excitement. Franky and I worked for Sears in Receiving and got each other hooked on the idea of taking our three days off on the 4th of July in Wildwood. It's a place for guys on the make and just about anybody who's lookin' for a good time.

Farmboy Foolin', Part 1

Sitting on the edge of his chair at the kitchen table, Ned's right leg was bouncing rapidly and as he leaned over the table his muscular arms encircled the bowl of Cheerios he was spooning into himself while he gazed blankly at the sports page. Baseball season was in its early days and he liked seeing photos of the players in their tight pants more than he liked the game.

Farmboy Foolin', Part 2

Whoever said it was OK for guys to be gay? Dumb question. But not for Ned. And Lord knows this dumb question must be around--it's rare for dumb questions to exist isolated in only one individual. That would be genius, wouldn't it? No this dumb, right-on question that was aching inside Ned was in Lester's gut, too. In Ned, whose unrealized vagrant sexuality was throwing the furniture

Farmboy Foolin', Part 3

Jim O'Brian stood behind his wife on their farmhouse porch with his arms wrapped warmly around her, rocking the two of them gently side to side. After 30 years of almost non-stop labor they saw in their family and abroad their hundreds of acres of well-tended farmland something that filled them with deep joy. The pleasure of this particular morning's snuggle on the porch was knocked

Farmboy Foolin', Part 4

At puberty a boy's eyes grow. His first intentional ejaculation with its bracing horror and glazed trance of dilated pupils fixed to his hard dick is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that triggers every shaggy rocketing of cum from then on. He is awarded a hot body--a hot body with more erections than a field of weeds. This morning on the farm Ned and Les were hot-wired to get back

Farmboy Foolin', Part 5

Les was certain as any virgin boy could be that he could tease and seduce Ned just by fitting himself into a perfect pair of cock-and-ass jeans. Seeing himself in them got him to feeling like a rooster and he let out one hell of a Rebel Yell to let the world know he was ready to let ride, oh yeah, Sally, oh yeah, RIDE! But it was that yell that jumped out of him that brought Ned

Farmboy Foolin', Part 6

Back when Ned was in the 10th grade at McFarland High, he tried doing something that gave him a lasting scare. He had seen the way Lonnie, the class queer, walked and Ned, who had just admitted to himself that he was gay, wanted to try walking like Lonnie to see what it was all about. He picked a place where nobody could see him and in a few minutes he had it down: he could walk as

Farmboy Foolin', Part 7

"Did ya swallow it?" Les looked up at Ned with a sly look, his mouth partly open. At each corner of his wide mouth were small streams of cum and you could see on his tongue a little lacey evidence of the creaming he had gotten from Ned. But he stuck his tongue way out the way a kid does and said, Yeth, I-think-I-god-eth-awe." Then, to drive his joke home he switched to a mock snob

Farmboy Foolin', Part 8

Ned's eyes popped open when he felt his dick getting hard again. He had been having a dream that he was a trapeze artist and that he was coupled with Les high in the circus tent having sex, and the excitement was derived from their swinging so high with a degree of pride that was above all fear of death. The high-flying dream of sexual prowess worked on his recumbent cock and, with

Farmboy Foolin', Part 9

Les left Ned's hot embrace and scampered to the bathroom to prep his ass so that Ned could do everything to him that comes with a good fucking--his first. Their first. Ned was left alone in a highly aroused condition. Even without an aching hard-on he hated being apart from Les. He picked up Lester's bib overalls from the floor and went through his buddy's pockets to find the condoms

Farmboy Foolin', Part10

Les's mother died when he was twelve. She died suddenly from a ruptured aneurysm just minutes after she saw Les off on the school bus that October day. Blue sky day, but it was horrible. The tragedy was compounded when Les's father, who had always been a little sharp with his kids, became ever more irritable and his children were not exempt from his angry outbursts which worsened each

Farmboy Foolin', Part11

Two naked lovers jostled one another intentionally in the hall as they made their way to the shower. Ned pushed and tickled Les and Les came back laughing with his own poking finger. They were making some headway towards the shower the way Daffy Duck of cartoon fame made headway--bouncing off walls. Les took up the goofy thing and turned the tables on Ned, pushing him up against the

Felling The Big Pine

The windows are open and a light cool breeze is blowing into my room where I'm stuck in a pile of books required for my Landscape Design 102 course. The finals are close and I have already shot half the weekend reviewing the course materials. It's Saturday night and I'm dull to the books, drifting into a dreamy thing that is a mix of this text which covers the varieties

Flyer Boyz Obligato

He's wearing dirty white jeans and a gray T-shirt. Bondage and masturbation indicated. He doesn't look the type--they never do. But fuck man, he's got the bod I like an' in this soaking rain we've gotta hustle to get a whole sack of damn flyers delivered to four blocks of houses. I'd dump them, but the bastard told us he'd drive around to see 'em before he paid us. We're keepin'

Fratboy High Rollers

"Gotta tell you somethin' you already know." "Yeah, what's that?" "You've been checkin' me out." "Yeah, you like that?" "Yeah--yes I do. But it drives me nuts not doin' somethin' about it. The other guys went up to Newgate and won't be back ‘til tomorrow. Like to see what I really look like?" "I'm game. But tell ya what--we both make an entrance to the room and come in on the

Gettin' Him Good

Soren and I had just about had done all we could in making a clearing near the pond for his family's upcoming reunion picnic. With mowers and saws and whackers we sweated up a hundred foot space for a half dozen picnic tables and a couple of bar-b-ques. "Kirk, take a drink of this." I was handed a bottle of Mountain Dew and knocked it half down before I got a jolt from Soren who

Hot Cock Rules!

Just a few minutes before Bram and I were standing shoulder to shoulder on the wooden porch drinking our beers, looking out at this strange town that sits alongside the Schuylkill River, which here, sixty miles north of Philly, is just a broad shallow creek good for skipping stones and fishing. It's late November we're only standing outside because the wood frame house I inherited

Just On The Rocks

Tight purple jeans. You don't see jeans like this on guys, but from my experience, just follow the tight purple jeans like you follow the yellow brick road. The guy wearing them was about 23 or 24 with streaked shaggy-blonde hair, eyes which were dark brown and locked onto the eyes of his targeted sex-mate for the night. Powerful biceps popping out of a muscle T-shirt and thighs that

Mac Had A Switch

Even the nastiest blue collar jobs have this in common with the executive positions of any kind, they all involve a great deal of time just standing around. There are exceptions to this, like the pot washer and the miner. But from what I've seen, even when you're geared to do a job there are just times when you can't do a thing because you have to think it through or because you're

My First Time Doing Phone Sex

I remembered that John told me one time that he did phone sex and because we had just begun living together it was just an item I tucked away, I guess, for today. He's taking a summer course in Toledo, Ohio, and I'm stuck here in Philly. I'm horny and it's phone sex time--9 PM. He'll be studying and now I'm gonna blow him away. Billy: Hi John what cha doing? Could I string you up

Stripping Down The Speedos

I'm Klick and my best friend got his nickname at the same time I got mine--he's Ridge. How? We were always taking out war movies and it's always the same story in the infantry: "Hey, how many more klicks do we have to go? Answer: About another three klicks across this ridge." Etc. So our friends named us Klick and Ridge. We were always hanging around one another. With four years

We Oughta Get Up

My cot was jammed next to Terry's in the Senior Counselors tent, so close that I could reach across to his cot. I had kicked off the blanket and top sheet in the night, so wearing just a white tee and white boxer briefs I was laying in a bed with everything in a tangle. The sweaty sheet that I was laying on had come loose and exposed the lumpy old mattress. Laying on my

Wranglers Workin' It On The Side

When you want a guy you want him. So I wasn't going to play games with Lee. Here was a guy who was tall and so lean that his dick was something that lay in his jeans like a fist. This cowboy wore his Wranglers like they were part of him and he was the sexiest bastard I ever saw except for myself. I had a picture of what I wanted to happen. Those work jeans, tight and torn and

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