Gay Erotic Stories

Call to Go, Part 4 Hi, my name is Cliff Johnson. I’m a 3rd year student at one of the colleges in my town, and I’m into surfing and working out. What else do you want to know? Okay, I have brown eyes, a cool tan, a smart bod – although I’m not over-defined; everything has great definition, my abs are cool though, really like a washboard; I keep my brown hair short because it’s really thick, and washing the sand out of it after a day of surfing can be truly grim. I just turned twenty a couple of months back, and yeah, I want to tell you about the best birthday present I ever received. Part of my course is food preparation, uh, theory and practical. Before last year it was really shit, I mean, the lecturer we had, well she wasn’t interested you know, and like we were a nuisance to have to teach. But this year, man, is it different! Now we have this really cool guy – a proper chef - and hey, it’s awesome. The class is really, really pumping; the dude is switched on. He’s strict, though, and pushes us hard, but, man, there’s a whole new vibe in class. The babes spend the whole lesson walking around with wet panties and stiff nipples! No, the guy must be in his thirties, he’s not a stud or anything, but he has, like, presence. He can walk into the classroom and stand behind us without saying anything or letting us know he is there, and the class, they can be really making a buzz, but man, suddenly everyone just keeps quiet. It’s weird, man. How’s he look? Wow, uh, let’s see if I can do this right… uh, he’s got short, dark blonde hair; these faint lines around his eyes and mouth from like always smiling or laughing – although he doesn’t do that much in the class, it’s serious work there, man – hey, a beard, but neat and just like outlining his jaw and lips; no, it’s not full-on bushy or anything; green eyes; he looks like he is always thinking of a joke… He’s about 6 foot tall; good shoulders and arms – strong but not worked, you catch, uh, yeah man and curly dark chest hair where it sticks over the top couple of buttons when his shirt top is open… Hey, sorry, yeah I was just thinking about him, like. He has so much time for us students, he’s really patient with us, and when he walks around the class when we cook, man, he has this way of holding himself. And he doesn’t shout, but even with the noise in the kitchen, we can hear him talk to us.… Like I said, the chicks cream themselves for him… Like, you know, I know his pecs are good; strong, and his nipples: wow – like brown-pink. But the hair around them is not dark, man, more like dark gold, and he has a firm stomach and then from his belly button there is this thickish line of darker hair that leads to… hey, man I’m sorry… I got carried away there! Yeah, well this is what I want to tell you – how do I know. Lately, I’ve been really confused – I’ve always had a girlfriend; no, not always the same one, but, like with all of them there was never any spark there, yeah, like that’s right- you know, man. And I could never get myself to screw them, man, although sometimes it got pretty hectic with our clothes off and everything. But then I used to feel ill, here, yeah in my stomach, and like I want to be sick. And I would give them some story about how I respected them, and like how this was really difficult for me, but like I couldn’t go the whole way because it wasn’t right and we weren’t married or anything. And most of them bought it, man, and it made them come on all soft and protective. But some of them would get really angry and shout at me about leading them on and who did I think I was, you know, and I never saw them again, and sometimes that really hurt bad. And I was cool, man, until this year when this new dude began teaching us. It was like, something happened to my head, like a connection burst up here. I would find myself sitting in class dreaming about him, like he was a chick, or I was a chick… you know what I mean? He would walk around the class, especially when dictating notes to us, and I couldn’t concentrate man, it was hectic. And he would stop behind me and look at what I had written, and it was junk – like I hadn’t been hearing him, but he wouldn’t get harsh or anything – just go to like the beginning and repeat it all… And then I understood what the chicks in the class were talking about, and how he turned them all on… Sometimes I used to get a hard-on, sitting there watching him demonstrate a food procedure to us – so confident and sure; man, making it so easy for us. It’s a good thing I had my apron on all the time in those classes, and I used to sit at the back because my dick used to rage fully. Yeah, it was worse when we were dressed in our normal clothes. I mean, I used to wear baggies and slops and a t-shirt, like it was quick to go and catch waves right after class and not have to hassle about changing or anything, but it was dangerous for me – my dick used to get so hard, and stick up against the underside of the desk. Man, sorry, hey, yeah, I’m beginning to get stiff, just talking about it! That’s it – he was spinning my head. I didn’t know like what was happening to me. I’m a guy, right? And guys and chicks are supposed to get it together, and it was always easy for me, like the babes enjoy a surfer dude with a good bod. But here is this other guy, and he’s doing things to my head and my dick that no chick has ever got right with me before. I mean, hey, my brain was bursting. My work started to slack off and I wasn’t thinking right in class, and man, it was coming up for the end of the term and we had tests starting and everything. Well, this dude, his door was always open to us students if we had hassles with our work, and the chicks, they used to go and tell him about their personal hassles and all that. And they would swear by him, man, like he was a guru or something. Sometimes there was a line outside his door stretching past the other lecturers’ doors – they used to get wild, hey, like what is this dude doing there? No, but it was all above board, all the time. He was, like, uh, safe to talk to. The babes said he would listen to you, and then ask one or two questions, and the whole thing would be clear, man, like there was a light shining there. Harsh! So anyway, I got to the stage where I couldn’t carry on any more. My chick was hitting on me big-time for sex, and it was my birthday and she wanted to give me this really great time and all and I knew it would end up in the bed with me screwing her like it was her birthday and I knew that like usual I wouldn’t be able to go through with it, and it being my birthday and everything she wouldn’t take the normal excuses, and she would have condoms and the whole story ready so that I would have to do it all the way… yeah, you get it. So I thought, what the hell, I must sort this out with the dude, and get my life fixed straight and proper. I went to his office after class one evening. We had been powering it through the whole day, and we were all buggered. I mean, it’s not easy being on your feet for like a seven-hour stretch, with only short breaks for the toilet and that. No, man, no smoke breaks – we’re a large class and the dude tries to give us all his time, so it depends on how well we work, like as individuals, to get through the tasks right. But it’s good, we don’t hassle. Anyhow, the other guys all ducked, so I went down to the dude’s office, but he wasn’t there so I thought, now what? But then I saw his books there, and his jacket hanging up, so I reckoned he must be having a slash or something, so I waited, but now I’m getting all nervous and everything. Anyway, he’s soon in the office, asking me in his quiet voice how he could help me – not what I wanted or anything cruel like that, but how he could help me. Man, he has it. Now he’s sitting in his chair on the other side of his desk, his hair damp like he has wet it under the tap, and his tie is loose and hanging low and the top buttons of his shirt are undone with this curly dark-gold hair sticking out, and he gives me this look like he is staring right into me, like, you know. And I stutter; - yeah, I used to stutter bad when I was stressed; no, I don’t do it any more – this dude has cured me of it - I told you, he is hectic. For all my life, man, I used to stutter, and it was worse when I was stressed. Sometimes it would badly frustrate me because I couldn’t express myself. Some chicks used to go wild for it, though, like it appealed to their mothering instincts or something. But hey, so the guy leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, and reckons what, what? Well, I tune him, stuttering like I can’t get into gear, that it’s the girlfriend. I can’t say to him, like it’s you, dude – you send my hormones spinning and I’m like permanently hard when I see you! And I’m sitting there, all nervous and twitching, and he uncrosses his legs so casually and gives them a good stretch, like a cat. He has these great, long legs, man. They look so hot in his black chefs’ trousers. His ass fits them so well, and they like hug his thighs but they aren’t tight or anything… Sorry, here I’m dreaming there again! Yeah, so he hears me say my hassle is with the chick and how she wants to have sex with me but like I’m not ready, and he checks me out slow and deep and says he’s sorry but he’s not a shrink and isn’t qualified to give me advice on this! And then adds, like it doesn’t matter, that he spends every night at work after hours because his love-life sucks! I mean, hey, I almost fell off my chair – this guy – he’s fucking HOT man, the spunk is poring from his ears and he could have any of the chicks in the class if he wanted, and he tells me so cool and calm his own life sucks. I nearly like vaulted over his desk to tell him I fucking love him, man. And then, still so at peace with himself, he reckons to me like, duck, mate – sort your own hassles out. That’s right; he tunes he works late to be able to get himself on line for all his classes. I was smashed, man, I felt like he had reached over and smacked my face, right? So I stand up and say, hey, like I’m sorry for hassling him. And then that connection in my brain snaps and I tell him he was my last resort and there is no one else for me to talk to, and like I’m really at the end of the road. And by now I’m in the corridor collecting my books and stuff with my back to him, and I can feel my eyes getting all hot like I’m going to cry. Man, I haven’t cried since I was a kid? And I say I came to talk to him because he has helped the other students really good, and I can’t even talk to my parents about this… Then I turn to face him and he sees how bad I am and he stands up and walks around his desk towards me, and says, quiet-like: “Cliff, come on, come and sit down and tell me what’s really worrying you.” I mean, then I start to cry. Not full on, but I can feel the tears trickling down my cheeks, you know? So, now I’m stuttering really badly and fidgeting and eventually come out with it that I think I must be gay. Yeah, like that, man, straight on. And I just stand there, and stop talking, man, and give him this look, like what now? You understand? Yeah, cool. What does he say? Nothing much - he just reckons like, yes, and then opens his arms man, and tells me to let it all out. So now I’m crying severely – the tears are pouring down my face, and I fall onto him, and he closes his arms around me like I’m a baby and he’s rocking me gently and stroking my hair and I’m bawling, man, really letting it all out and my face is stuck into his neck, and I can fell his strong arms around me, and he’s talking softly to me… and I’m hugging him really tight, and thinking like what is this dude going to think of me now? I’m a grown man, understand, and I’m standing there crying my eyes out like I should be wearing diapers and be fed soft foods! But nothing. He’s just holding me, and talking to me so quiet and soothingly, and there’s no feeling like he’s judging me or anything, he’s just there… So I relax big-time, and really get close to him, like that’s it, man, my whole body is against his, now. My chest is pressed on his and I can feel his chest-hair chafing me and my belly is hard against his and I can feel it there, warm and flat and hard… and then I realise my dick is lying against his, and mine is getting stiff, but I can’t move, man, it’s like I’m stuck there fast! So I’m crying now, not so stark, but still I can’t stop, but now I’m more aware of this guy, and I’m standing there in his arms, man, and I can smell him. Dude, it was powerful, man, just to smell the strength of him and know that here is a man who can hold another man and not be uncomfortable about it. Yeah, he smelled so good – so right. Okay, so I could smell all the stuff we had been cooking the whole day on him, but underneath that was his after shave and his deodorant, but there was the smell of him, too, and it was like a, a perfume. But it wasn’t any sissy chick-thing, just him. A really male, masculine smell. Like I could have swallowed him whole. By now I’ve stopped crying and have stopped holding him so tight. So he holds me away from him and checks out my face and gives me his handkerchief – yeah, full on, man. This big, white piece of cloth that is full of his own special smell; and tells me to wipe my eyes and blow my nose like I’m a little kid! But I do it, man; I do it as he says. And while I’m standing there wiping my face, the dude pulls his shirt off, right in front of me, and I’m thinking, like what now? And I say to him, what are you doing, and he just laughs and reckons he has to change his shirt – the one he’s wearing is all wet somehow, making out like it’s a joke. So I feel a real fool for thinking he’s going to try and come on to me, because man, I was hoping he would. But he tells me to go and wash my face, and sort myself out and then come back to the office. And I say, right, but here’s this guy standing there in front of me with no shirt on – like my fantasy has come to life, and I’m thinking, if the babes could see this they would faint, man! Why? Hey – I told you at the beginning – he has this awesome body, not tanned harsh or worked out, but it’s there, you know, this bod of his just has it. And I feel my dick is getting hard, and my tongue is starting to get thick and my mouth begins to water, just by looking at this guy’s chest and stuff, and he sees me staring at him with eyes that must be nearly falling out of my head, and says like really forcefully to me to go and wash my face. I can feel myself blush – I mean, what must he be thinking about me already, so I get to the washroom to sort myself out and like cool down a bit. Now I’m standing there checking out my face in the mirror and man, I look like a bulldog, hey! I wash my face with cold water, and stick my head under the tap and wet my hair. And I look at myself again and think, uh, why can’t this dude love me like I love him? I have a great bod, I’m not bad looking, the chicks go wild for my legs and feet – no, even I have to admit they are good to look at! And then I think, what’s wrong with me – how can I just blurt out to this guy I’m gay – and those tears, what’s with them? And I reckon to myself, what have I done, like telling this dude I’m gay? And what if he thinks it’s a joke and tells the class and all the other staff – I mean, how will I face everyone again, especially all the babes. Then they will know why I wouldn’t screw them and they would all laugh at me and man, I would be the biggest joke going. So now I’m really worried, but bad. I walk back to the dude’s office, thinking about this and what can I say to him, and when I walk in, he’s still pulling a thin jumper on, and I can’t help it, my eyes go straight to staring at his stomach. I tell you, he had caught me viciously. Then I ask, and man I am stuttering, the dude not to tell anyone what happened there with me, and he says, pulling the jumper down, so cool, that it will stay between the two of us. Hey, I gave a fat grin, and he is sitting there behind his desk again, and I tune him he is the BEST! And like a cucumber, he reckons he doesn’t know what he has done for me, but that it’s cool. So, I want to make sure he realises just how much he means to me and I go round to his side of the desk, and kneel by his chair, and look up into his sexy face, and say that I feel really close to him and that I trust him. But his dick, man, I can see this thing outlined in his trousers there, and it is working, man, working! So I think, no, it can’t be me, and I check whose work he has on his desk and it is one of the beaut babes, so I know, she has him hot, so I stand up and then, man, I don’t know why, but I chance to give him a hug, and tell him I won’t waste his time again. Again, really serene, he says I haven’t wasted his time and I can always come and see him. And he gets me going, does he get me going! I think of his dick there, and mine says Howzit to me, and starts to get hard, so before I embarrass myself further, I stutter good night, and run, man, fast away from that office, whistling like all was cool now. What the dude must have thought of me, hey, I don’t know! But he had given me the best birthday present I could have wished for. I could see what to do now, and dump the girl was the first thing. Man, I knew she would be pissed, but hey, there was no way I was going to have her hanging all over me now, not after the dude had held me so close in his arms. The only thing I still had to work out, was how to get the dude to fall in love with me as much as I knew I loved him…. My heart was telling me, like, that empty space has gone, and now it’s full and warm… Sorry, man, you have to go. I’ll catch up with you later. No, sure, I’ve enjoyed talking to you; any time. Sorry to have gone on like that…. I’ll see you again? Cheers, man, thanks for listening. I had to tell someone, you know? You listen really well. Go safe, it’s been a real pleasure. END OF PART 4 Ódrewf82, 030301 If you enjoyed this story, and would like to follow this developing relationship between the dude [Mike] and Cliff, contact me at drewf82@hotmail.com and let me know. I welcome all ideas for story lines and am always open to positive suggestions.