Gay Erotic Stories

It's time to bring the saga of Joe full circle with my final chapter. It's been over 6 months now since Joe reentered my world and turned it inside out. Yes, there are occasionally times when my conscious mind wishes he had never come back into my life because I've lost control. However, most of the time, I cannot imagine my life without Joe playing the role of leading man. On the one hand, this former student has consumed my world and caused me serious doubts as to my manhood and self-worth. On the other hand, he gives me more pleasure than I ever thought could exist. When Joe is not around, I am still the congenial and hardworking Mr. Edwards--teacher and coach whose compassion and ethical behavior supports a reputation beyond reproach. But the minute I see him, my mind turns to mush and I am overcome with sexual desire and lust. Just last night for instance, I was washing dishes at the kitchen counter about 10 pm, thinking of how I simply HAD to tell Joe it was time to begin tapering off our encounters. I was becoming disinterested in anything else but him because nothing or no one could compete with his hold over me; I needed to regain my life. I even considered taking a teaching job in a neighboring state in an attempt to return to a sense of normalcy. Then I heard Joe's familiar knock. I needed him to stay away this night because I had several projects to work on (besides the dishes), but, as usual my heart immediately went to my throat the second I knew I was going to see him again. My plan was to confront him at the door and ask him not to come over anymore. I took a deep breath and opened the door to see Joe's masculine form and familiar confident smile anticipating my usual welcoming reaction. My eyes quickly surveyed his muscular physique. Joe had added about 20 pounds of solid muscle to his 5'5" frame over the last 6 months putting him somewhere around 180, approximately my weight at 5'10". He was becoming more unbelievably attractive to me each time I saw him, and his body was simply more than I could resist. He was wearing cut off shorts that exposed powerfully built legs and a tight white v-neck t-shirt which I had given him. It pleasures me to give Joe clothes and to see him looking so incredibly good in them. He always tries them on immediately when I give them to him and few things pleasure me more than watching him strip down to his waist, pour himself into a different shirt, and check his image in the mirror. He knows I love watching him dress and undress. He usually asks my opinion which is always "you look much better in it than I ever did". Joe always does look incredibly good in my clothes...especially in the athletic undershirts some people call "wife beaters". God, nobody fills out one of these like Joe! Although the sight of him had, among other things, already caused my pulse to race and my breathing to quicken, I tried to stick to my plan and act less than enthusiastic at seeing him as I returned to my dishes. Joe followed me to the sink and, as I began my rehearsed speech, he reached between my legs and grabbed my cock which had already become fully erect. "Jesus, you're already hard!" he laughed as he massaged my crotch seductively. I was instantly like putty in his hands. He spun me around, dug his hand down the front of my pants, and sensuouly squeezed and rubbed my stiff organ while smiling broadly at the complete control he had over me and the embarrassment it caused me to feel. He had no shame; I was consumed by it. Between short excited breaths I said, "Joe, please stop and listen to me... please, I don't want....." Joe suddenly squeezed my cock harder and abruptly interrupted with, "Shutup... we both know what you want." He continued stimulating me with his hand while staring at me with confident eyes and a knowing smile. In less than one minute, Joe was already in total command of me and he knew it. He easily picked my body off the floor with one arm, carried me around the bar, and roughly pinned me against the wall. He held me there while working my groin with his strong hand. "So. you want me to stop...huh, is that what you're trying to say? Do you want your muscle daddy to leave you alone...is that really what you want? He began working my crotch more aggressively, simultaneously giving me great pleasure while inflicting a little pain. I heard my voice respond almostly involuntarily with, "No, don't stop...please, please, don't stop. I like ... I like what you do to me... I need you." Joe put his other hand around my neck and squeezed my face with his fingers. He allowed my body to slide down the wall to his level, and then he forcefully kissed me with his probing tongue deep in my mouth. Damn, Joe knew how to kiss! He was rough, yet totally satisfying and thoroughly in control. I moaned with pleasure as his tongue and sensous lips delighted my mouth while he continued to massage my stiff cock with his knee and free hand. He finally allowed my limp body to sink to the floor. He took a few steps back so that he could narcicistically view himself in the big mirror on the wall. Joe was admiring his massive frame and I was masturbating with uncontrollable lust when he ordered, "Get up and come take my shirt off." I licked my lips in anticipation as my eyes took stock of the massively muscled body standing a few feet from me, inviting my attention. I could tell he had just come from the local gym by the way his muscles were full and pumped. I walked to him and ran my hands around his bowling ball shoulders causing my breathing to become very quick and uneven. Joe laughed, fully aware that he literally took my breath away just by letting me touch him. Cautiously I began to peel off the skin tight shirt that clung to his hard torso. Joe purposely didn't make it easy for me to remove his shirt as he adjusted and tensed his muscles for the mirror. However, the more effort I expended, the more I enjoyed this challenging strip show. Finally the shirt came off over his head, and, as my hands ran down his rockhard lats to his waist, I stood there totally entranced by the sight of his powerful pecs. No matter how many times I saw Joe's bare chest, each new viewing was like the first sighting; I was simply awestruck by the sheer beauty of his powerful physique. Each week, Joe's body seemed to grow larger and consequently more sensually attractive to me. But why? Throughout my career in athletics, I had been around dozens of extremely well-built men and boys. Although I always admired a muscular physique, I was never particularly sexually attracted to any of them....until now. Something about Joe just pushes my hot button to the nth degree. Without an invitation or even a conscious effort, I found my mouth sucking his huge nipples and the slabs of thick muscle on which they lay. I was reduced to a blubbering idiot acting like a young calf who couldn't get enough of his mother's milk and heaving with the need to taste more, more, more when Joe yanked me away by the hair. I must have looked like an addict badly in need of a fix because he said, "Hey man... just slow the fuck down...Jesus, sometimes you are fucking pathetic. Now get behind me and just take it slow, man. Enjoy the view". I dutifully obeyed and was actually thankful for this opportunity to worship his hard body appropriately. While we both watched our reflections in the mirror, I began to run my hands over his pumped up muscles. God, but he looked good tonight! His wide shoulders completely hid my body behind him and I marvelled at their size and power as I cupped my hands around each boulder. I massaged his thick back particularly enjoying the way Joe's massive lats tapered into his small waist. I dug my fingers into the crevises and mounds of muscle on his thick back. I pounded hard on his huge traps and then massaged them with envy and desire. "Now you can feel my chest" Joe allowed. "With pleasure" I replied as I snuck my hands underneath his arms and clamped onto his pumped pecs. The view and feel of my hands on Joe's chest made tears come to my eyes. Why did he allow me to worship him so completely? I know Joe was screwing at least two women in town; didn't they give him the same kind of adoration? Probably not, I concluded...no one else would so openly degrade themselves or appreciate this opportunity as much as I. I also allowed myself the fantasy of thinking Joe thought rather fondly of me despite his rough talk. Except when we were wrestling or fucking, Joe was reasonably polite and somewhat respectful. I needed to believe he understood my addiction to him and even appreciated my complete devotion. Perhaps his ego needed the appreciation only another male could give. It helped to think that Joe enjoyed my attention almost as much as I enjoyed providing it. After all, we were both in love with his body. Watching my hands feel up Joe's chest was one of the biggest turn-ons I had ever had. For several minutes we both took great pleasure in watching this muscle worship session in the mirror. My hands expertly covered every solid inch of Joe's sexy chest over and over, never tiring of the incredible sensations that surfaced in both of us. My cock was nearly exploding! I purposely made sure Joe could feel it against his lower back. I knew he did when he reached around and took hold of it saying playfully, "is this a gun in your pants or are you just glad to see me?" I responded with "I notice you're having a little trouble concealing your own weapon" making reference to his huge erection that put my "gun" to shame. Joe released his hold and raised his mighty arms which now measured over 17 inches flexing them hard as he said, "Speaking of big guns...check these out". I felt the hard as rock biceps of my muscle master and admired their perfectly symmetrical shape in the mirror. I slapped them with my open hands and ran my mouth and tongue over them as Joe flexed them over and over. I was in absolute heaven as Joe allowed me to worship his body with my willing hands for over half an hour, neither of us tiring of watching him flex and pose in the mirror. Finally, he said, "NOW, you can come suck my chest". With as much control as I could muster, I slowy made my way between Joe and the mirror. Joe can flex each pec separately and would tense one repeatedly while I sucked it hard. My wandering eye would then catch the other pec flexing and my mouth would hastily move to experience it. He teased me with this game like you would tease a kitten with a moving string. My lust should have caused me humiliation, but I was simply enjoying this playground of muscle. I knelt down and cupped his strong chest muscles in my hands while I let my tongue and insatiable mouth explore Joe's armor of abs. After a few minutes I heard, "Are you ready to suck my big dick...or maybe I should be going?" Quickly I unbuttoned Joe's fly and allowed his huge cock to escape from its bondage. How was it possible that this perfectly muscled body could also possess such an incredibly massive cock as well. It just seemed so ironic that this former misfit could now be so richly blessed. It took both my hands to wrap around Joe's 10 inches of hard meat. My mouth hurriedly attempted to encompass Joe's cock, and, although I had performed this ritual at least twice each week (well over 50 times), I was always amazed at how difficult it was to fit my mouth and hands around his giant organ. I was sloppily sucking away trying to keep one hand holding Joe's dick while the other continued to explore his pumped up torso. How could I be anything but thankful for the opportunity to worship this hunk of manliness! Where was my head? Joe finally lifted me up by the armpits, heaved me across his shoulder and carried me like a 50 pound sack of seed to the bedroom. He threw me to the bed, removed his shorts and made me watch him stroke his massive meat. Everytime I made an instinctive move to come to him, his hand went up as if to stop my advancement. No, he wanted me to wait until I was crazy with desire; it was sheer torture! Joe stroked his cock with one hand and massaged his chest with the other, just as I had been doing minutes before. I admit, he didn't seem to need me to worship him since the joy he was so obviously experiencing from stimulating himself was fully evident. I understand now that Joe was making me watch so that my brain would begin to realize how fortunate I was to have a lover like him. He was teaching me today's lesson which I finally comprehended. From this moment on, I promised myself, I would only be completely appreciative of what Joe had chosen to share with me. As I said, Joe was screwing at least two women in town several times a week and certainly didn't need me to satisfy him. I wasn't jealous because, first of all, I had no right to be, secondly because I had no plans for any relationship other than the incredible fantasies Joe was fulfilling for me, and thirdly because I enjoyed fantasizing about the complete satisfaction those women must experience when Joe makes love to them. >From now on, there would be no more analyzing whether on not our raw sex encounters or sadistic wrestling matches or body worship sessions were right or wrong, good or bad. No, rom now until Joe decided differently, I would be the slave Joe demanded of me and be truly thankful for the job. Joe knew what he was doing, and I think he could tell the moment I came to this awareness. I had settled back to watch the show and stroke my own cock when Joe climbed on top me. He fucked me more sensuously and lovingly than ever before. The next hour was filled with more sincere kissing and less brutality than usual and I believe I can say I fell in love last night. Yes, we turned the corner in our relationship last night as Joe once again assumed the role of teacher. No more questionning attitude on my part. The next time Joe comes to me (hopefully tomorrow night), whether he is in the mood to rape me, wrestle me to submission, be worshipped, make love, or just talk, I will be there for him. I now realize that I am blessed and happy and thankful for my good fortune to have a connection with this young muscle stud. In fact, I like to think I inspire Joe almost as much as he inspires me. Edwards