Gay Erotic Stories

Since my freshman year in college, I began to get bolder about my sexual lust for guys. I am the youngest of three, with ten years difference between me and my brother, the second oldest. When I began quickly maturing at 12, my brother, Kyle, was still in college. My dad was busy with the ranch. Mom played golf a lot and let the maid take care of the house work. I was pure country in thought and clothes, except I did great in my school work. The only things that interested more were friends, football, and western wear. I couldn't have enough pairs of every color of Cowboy-cut Wranglers, with boots and belts that matched and a fucking huge checkbook wallet sticking out of my right back pocket. You can't be country-western and wear skin-tight Wranglers and not think about fucking all the time. Add to that football, weight-lifting and locker rooms, and I was horny all the time. Except, no one knew it but me. While I was acting serious and non-caring about anyone, I was checking out everybody in my school that had a serious bulge in the front of their pants or a butt that was curved out like a bowling ball. I just acted like nothing mattered except for my workouts and spending enough time with my friends. At home, after everyone else had long fallen asleep, I would go to my own bathroom and jack my cock at least twice, thinking about and wishing each hot body was my best friend and fuck boy. Damn, reality was going back to school and seeing that no one acted like they cared about me, either. As a college sophomore, I boldly stopped wearing underwear under my Wranglers, hoping that some hot guy would check out what I was packing. I wasn't going to make the first move, but I sure could encourage someone with my fat cock and big nuts packed to the side. I guess I noticed some looking, but no one admitted it with more than their eyes. That's all I would admit, too. The locker room was full of sweaty muscle-jocks in all states of attitude -- from "leave-me-alone-'cause-I just-fucked-up-in-practice" to "I-gettin-some-cunt-tonight" to "How-much-more-work-do-you-want-me-to-do,coach!" We'd all look at each other, but it was to encourage someone or make fun. No serious midnight thoughts were carried out in the locker room...at least I didn't. Gotta think about the team...not me. I was coming into my own in my junior year. I was second quarterback and saw a lot of playing time. I was six foot one and weighed in at 205. Muscular, slim, and I loved my butt. It was fucking round and stuck out great in my 34W, 38L Wranglers. I could just zip them up and then let everything find its place...which molded around the bottom of my zipper and pockets. But just for the first five minutes after I put them on each morning. The rest of the day, the pressure of the denim created a pressure of lust for any hot body that caused me to get hard. I wasn't going to fuck up in my junior year, though, cause I wanted the quarterback job badly next year! The summer before my senior year was spent in heavy workouts in our barn...from 6:00 AM till 9:00AM. I didn't gain fat but I gained firm, bigger muscles. My arms, shoulders and chest increased, as well as my quads and butt. Also, that summer I became closer friends with Matt. He didn't play ball. We had known each other essentially all of our lives. He always loved to come to the ranch on weekends. But as junior and then senior high came along, we found other friends to hang with. We'd see each other at school or at parties--we even dated the same girl in eighth grade -- him in the spring, me in the fall. Somehow, though, we renewed our friendship through weight lifting. I had found out in May that he was doing weights for a year. . .and I could see the change. So I stopped him in the hall and encouraged him. He said, "Thanks for noticing, but I've got a long way to go to get like you. I wanted to ask you for some workout pointers but wasn't sure you could be bothered since I didn't play ball." "Come on over and workout with me this afternoon." And that renewed our friendship. Matt was as tall as I was but was already thicker than me from genetics. He was putting shape to what he had. We had a great time in May renewing the friendship and then working out that summer. But we played together, too. Swimming, riding horses, throwing the football, cruisin with other friends. I got him into tight Wranglers and he got me into Marlboros. But nothing was happening between us in the day that I thought about at night. College started too soon and the football season was great and full of pressure for me. Matt kept me pumped with encouragement and I found myself playing for the school, the coach and for him. Didn't tell him though. But if I didn't get to see him and talk to him everyday, the day wasn't full enough. I wondered if he thought that too. Probably didn't care either way. Wouldn't even bring up the subject. I couldn't tell him what I thought. Cowboy-muscle jocks just don't do that shit. Fuck it. The football season ended. We did great and I had some big university coaches checking me out when I played on the field. There were some offers but I couldn't make up my mind just yet. My mind was set only on Matt, good grades, sex, Matt, football, Marlboros, Matt, my family and my dick. With more time for myself, I started inviting Matt back to the ranch everyday. The weekend before Thanksgiving break, I worked up the courage to ask him to spend the weekend at the ranch. "Sure! That would be great. I wanted to ask you over to stay at our house but it never seemed to work out with my mom and dad's schedule." That Friday night it happened. I moved my hand over his chest while he lay next to me in bed. It was 12:45 a.m. He didn't say a word. I didn't care if he was awake or not! I wasn't going to say anything. My heart was pounding. I moved my hand lower to his stomach and felt his racing stripe tickling my fingers. Then he turned away from me. And I stopped. I left my hand on his hip but I was not sure what his move meant! I waited and then moved my hand onto his hard butt check. It was almost as hot as mine. I mean, it was a round-shaped Wrangler butt. Fuck, it felt good. I moved my hand to his hamstrings then across to his thick quads. I pulled myself closer to him and heard his breathing. I put my head as close to his chest as I could to see if his heart was racing like mine. Fuck, he flinched. And then lay still. I waited. My dick was so fucking thick with blood, my dick head bouncing above my navel and then relaxing. I wanted to fuck him so bad. not just to get off either. I loved him. He was my best friend. I moved up to his back and carefully put my arm around his stomach, my dick just sliding into his crack. And I waited. I didn't know how far I was going to go. Maybe just this far and I'll hold him while we sleep. Then, his hand came on top of my arm, his hand on top of my hand. I waited. Was he asleep like I was pretending to be? is fingers pushed against my hand, lowering my hand past his hips and touching his dick. It was huge. He put my hand on his cock and molded my fingers around its thickness. Then he moved his butt up against my stomach and released. And then again. And then he stopped. I waited. I heard the whisper. But, I didn't move. Just a little louder. "Do me now." I waited. Was that me thinking this? "Matt to Hunter," came the whisper. "Fuck, Hunter! Do it if you like me or get the fuck off of me!" I t was a hoarse whisper. And I pushed into his crack. I started humping up against him and jacking his dick. I was getting into it when he turned on me, shoved me over and in his real voice that was quiet, but filled a silent room, "Fuck me for real or get off me. What are you gonna do?" "Well, turn back over and I'll up you for real." "Fuck me on top, man, if you're gonna do it. I want it that way. That's what I've always thought about doing with you. Get on top and fuck me with your horse dick!" I've never ever thought I would do that. Sticking my dick up some guy's butt. I mean doing that in a reality sort of way. In my midnight dreams, though, it was different. Kind of like what's happening right now. At 20, I was finally fucking my best friend's 18 year old Wrangler butt. He was loving it. Me, too. And it got better!