Gay Erotic Stories

Have you ever been trapped into a line of traffic that inches along at a snail's pace and it seemed like the further you drove, the longer the bad road got? If there had been any other route available as an alternative, I would have taken it, but in these old mountains, one road is about all there is. The spring rains had caused a section of mountain to dislodge and it had covered up most of the two-lane for over a mile. The crews were working twenty-four hours a day but it seemed the more rock they hauled off the more fell behind it. Each morning, I would anticipate at least a thirty minute delay; total boredom; yuck. The flagman was one of those men that you see in the mall; masculine, hard-hat type with a friendly, sexy smile. When you see him in the mall, he is there with his wife, who has fat ankles, and the three beautiful kids he adores and you think, "Why is that hunkaboy married to her?" Oh well, life goes on. The traffic was slow, so I could actually chat with him for almost 10 minutes while the southbound traffic was allowed to pass and then he would turn the flag and then we were allowed to pass. He was the one who told me, and probably everyone else, what had happened and why it was taking so long to repair. I got the bright idea to bring him a sausage biscuit each morning and a cup of coffee. That evening while I was stopped we chatted again and I said, "What do ya like in your coffee?" He looked puzzled, but answered, "just cream." The next morning, I brought him the sausage biscuit and coffee with cream. He looked surprised and thanked me and said, "Most people just cuss me out and I explain I just hold this flag, I didn’t cause this mess." On the way home, I again stopped and he said, "Thanks again for the biscuit and coffee." I said, "Do ya want hash browns with that biscuit?" and we both laughed at my nasal imitation of the order window girls. He pretended to lean over to the order window and said, "I have a coupon." I did my nasal thing again and said, "Coupons are only good on Thursdays." Then the traffic was turned and I had to leave. The next morning, I handed him coffee and sausage biscuit, and hash browns. I had put a note inside the bag which said, "Coupon good for one free lasagna dinner at my house." And included my phone number. On my way home that night, as I stopped, he thanked me for the food and said, "Can I redeem this coupon Saturday night?” I said, "Sure, I'll drop off directions to my place tonight." I spent most of the spare time in my day, drawing a fun map. It began with 'You are here' and a drawing of a flagman in hardhat with sweat dripping off him and irate drivers cursing him. Then it showed him the route numbers etc and ended up with another drawing of the flagman lounging beside my pool with a beer in his hand. It said. "Flagman enjoying cold beer beside pool with belly full of lasagna." I handed him the map in an envelope and for once, dammit, traffic was light and had to move on. That was Friday afternoon. He arrived about 30 minutes late and got out of his truck laughing, "I got hung up by the flagman at my site." We both got a big laugh out of that. My mouth has a way of spouting off stuff and it falls out of my lips before I think. "Well, I hope he is as cute as the weekday flagman." He blushed, and I felt about one inch tall. "Better get to this lasagna before it gets cold." Oh my; foot in mouth buried up to the ankle. We got acquainted over dinner and I learned he was housed by his company with a crew in a motel and he hated it and was counting days until they were done with the job. It was getting close to dark when he said, "Where's that pool I was lounging round in your map?" I took him out back and showed him the pool. "Great pool, mind if I hop in?" "Let me turn on the pool lights for ya. Just a second." When I came back, he had gotten his swim trunks out of his truck and was heading for the pool house. "Hey, this is a ‘No-Trunks Pool.’ Sorry, company policy," then laughed. "Well, in that case," and he shucked out of his tee shirt and shorts and skinnied off his boxers, walked to the edge of the pool and tested the water with his toes, then climbed down the ladder. I toddled to the house...Are you crazy? A locomotive couldn't have dragged me into the house! I parked myself in a poolside chair and enjoyed the show. Eventually, he climbed up the ladder and retrieved a towel I had beside me. "Dave, that was great. Guess I had better go back to Motel Hell," and laughed. "You are welcome to stay here." Six weeks later, he had not returned to Motel Hell. Only one set of sheets was getting washed and I was trying to figure out how to place dynamite to create a fresh rock-slide to keep him around longer. At breakfast, after that first night, he began laughing, “I was trying to figure out how to ask you for a date, Dave. Then you gave me the biscuit and coffee and saved me the trouble. Did you notice I kept your northbound side parked longer than normal?" "Well, it did seem like a really long wait." "I wanted to flirt with you more, so I kept your side waiting." I prayed for another rock slide. mountaindave53@hotmail.com