Gay Erotic Stories

“what happened to theseus and pirithous in the end?” “that was the end—their last adventure was down to hades and they were caught, bound in invisible chains. theseus was rescued finally but he had to leave his friend behind. in the chain the love of comrades cannot take away.” tom stoppard: the invention of love i was in the wrong bar. i was looking down at the fat pink cock of the man at the urinal next to mine. he caught me. i remember the white straw hat. and his blue eyes. and his blond mustache. “you a fuckin’ fag or what.” you know. i was in the wrong bar. “yeah.” i said, “you got a pretty cock.” & he hit me. or maybe there was a little bit more to it than that. maybe, just maybe, i did try to touch him. it. same damn thing. i don’t remember. i was too drunk to . . . yeah, police. none of them hot. you’d think in dallas. . me and some of my friends had flown down for a long weekend of barhopping and new meat. there’s a good chance of that when you’re a stranger somewhere. look at me. i dressed right that night. black chevron stetson. black t-shirt, black jeans and biker boots. o.k., maybe i looked like a fag. i just wanted to suck some dick. you ever been in a jail? not pretty. no. don’t try it. there’s no romance in being treated like dirt. at least, not in their world. no matter how much pride you have—in yourself or in being a gay man—you’ve crossed the line. they don’t care. when they treat you like shit, it doesn’t matter whether you’re gay or not. get this. it doesn’t matter. you are evil. you are a sinner. you have done wrong on a saturday night. so, i’ve been hit and the cops have pushed me around and i’ve been too drunk to do anything about it. i like this grey on grey design scheme they’ve got going here. the harmonic balance of the distressed iron bars against the faux mottled concrete. the way the toilet avoids white white and goes to some off shade of rust and buff. look at the dirt on my knees. thank god the red rush is over. who were these? in the first cell, they were all too panic. you could feel the confusion. it made my head hurt. do i look like that? i hope i don’t. i’m a gay man. i can take anything. the second cell. the third, fourth, fifth. they kept getting smaller and smaller. now, down here. it’s going to be a long long long fuckin’ night. it’s funny how the darkness grows towards the corners of the ceiling. i think maybe i shouldn’t drink so much. three came in. you ever see somebody sorry about what they done? one of them was that way. he kept his eyes down. he looked all baby faced and sad. he wasn’t the cutest one. the cutest one was the loudest. that big goatee of his. the cheekbones. the skinny body. about my age. there was a cut on his forehead and the beginning of a nasty bruise. number three was somewhere in the middle. early thirties. Good looking in a kind of faded texas sort of way. not in a mood like the baby, but he looked kind of worried. i noticed that his attention kept going back to the cute guy, watching. i was not too busy feeling sorry for myself not to check them out. a gay man never says die. never. they turned their attention to me. cute one spoke up. “hey, buds, lookie here. we got company.” what. what are you going to do about this, max? “gentlemen.” the skinny one always led. he kept on at me as he sat down. must be the ringleader. “how you doin’ tonight, boy?” you call me ‘boy’ again and i’ll rip your fuckin’ balls off with my teeth. “fine.” he laughed. “‘fine’?” he rolled over onto his side, laughing. the young one who hid kept his face down. number three glanced at me and then back to the man still chuckling on the floor. eyes four inches from the concrete looked up at me. “you ain’t from around here, are ya?” “no. denver.” “well, fuck you denver. you’re in dallas texas now. and this is the end of the god fuckin’ universe.” he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. you’re pretty fuckin’ drunk too, fucker. the young guy had slumped in the corner. he looked like he was about to break down. his hands kept twisting around each other. the other guy looked at me, but it was that look like ‘my buddy’s bleeding. are you a paramedic?” no. i’m not what you want. “kyle!” the one on the floor shouted. “what?” the other said. the leader lifted his hand to his lips. “gimme a cigarette.” “they took ‘em, man.” leader rolled his head over to me. “you got any cigarettes?” “no.” he shouted. “FUCK!” kyle laid his hand on the denim thigh. “brandon.” “what?” “you gonna call dwight?” “fuck, man! i tried! he wasn’t fuckin’ home!” the hand withdrew. i watched him think. “then what we gonna do?” brandon looked at him, directly and coldly. “we’re gonna sit on our asses in jail.” kyle looked less drunk than the other two. “o.k.,” he said. brandon laid his forearm across his eyes. kyle watched him, steadily. the young boy started to cry. it’s not pretty, watching a man cry in jail. there’s nothing left. no honor. no pride. if you’re in there with him, it makes you feel like you’re nothing too. brandon took his arm from across his face. “davey?” davey didn’t answer. he just got worse. “davey?” where am i supposed to look. brandon sat up. “davey, come on, man. stop it. it’s goin’ to be alright.” davey wouldn’t stop. his fists were up to his eyes and he was sobbing. brandon was half sitting up, his hand reaching out toward davey. kyle was watching, leaning back against the wall. and, he was watching brandon, not davey. i think maybe that—that—was what made me . . . you don’t just sit there and ignore somebody doing that, man. i stood up. god, i thought, am i still this drunk? i stepped over kyle’s legs and slid down next to davey. i put my arm around him. he leaned into my shoulder. he didn’t stop crying. i put my hand beside his head and pulled it next to mine. he didn’t know who it was. he got worse for a few seconds. of course he did. but i held him, holding my arm around his shoulders. i was making soft shushing sounds and rocking him back and forth. he buried his head in my shoulder and let go. i held him. doing what i could. i kissed his forehead. so, what are faggots for, anyway? i looked up at the other two. kyle looked startled. yeah, i’m a fag. brandon . . . now, you know, brandon was smiling. so there’s our story. you never know. davey got quieter after a while. i kissed his head again. and again. i moved down to his cheek. i pulled his mouth around to mine. he didn’t look up to see who i was. and he kissed me back. straight boys are funny. nobody was stopping me. doing what i could. you get it? i wanted to make davey feel alright. so i kissed him again. i could tell he wasn’t used to this. being kissed by men, i mean. but, you know . . . his cheek was so soft and smooth. he was so young. maybe he was vulnerable. you think? i unbuttoned the top two buttons of davey’s shirt. pale appeared. i pushed his shirt aside, away from the groove the ran down the center of his chest. my hand went in, my fingers to his nipple. a little “no”. but, hey, gay. i pressed my favors. maybe i was thinking of myself instead of him. of what i wanted. doing what i could. secret: go down to the neck. with my hand still inside his shirt, i put my mouth under his chin. i licked his neck. i moved around to the side, still licking, until i was under his ear, under his jaw. licking and licking. nuzzling and drawing his skin into my mouth. his head went back, the body arched, and he sighed. i shifted. i put my mouth back on his and eased my folded leg underneath him. my arm went around his head. he was resting on me and i kept kissing. rubbing his chest. a couple more buttons. a hand on his crotch. “no”. but, guy, your dick’s hard. i can feel it. you can feel me squeeze it. you sigh. i squeeze it again. you groan. boys, boys, boys. i risked taking my mouth away from his for a second to look down and undo his buckle. the other two were watching me. each, somehow, now, had a hand laid on the other’s thigh. slow rubbing motions commenced. they’ve eased closer together. watch the show. zip, flip it out. move your mouth down there now, max. thick and sweet. short and hard. fresh for my mouth.. i know that once it’s in my mouth, he’s not gonna care i’m a guy. show him how nice a man can be. how gentle. how patient. how tight his lips can be around a cock. i loved having that in there. and i turned it around with my tongue and pulled it in with my breath and moved down to the root and held it there. down there, even if you’re busy, you can work and watch at the same time. i looked over. i watched brandon lay his lips against kyle’s. it was so sweet. and i saw kyle gently return the kiss. and that’s when i thought o.k. we’re all in this together. i heard the sound of another metal buckle being undone. i looked over. and saw that brandon was sucking kyle’s hardon. it was sticking out from kyle’s pants. and it was a nice piece of meat, too. not very thick, but very very long. and brandon was doing the job on it. that’s when the fag in me really kicked in. why is it that i get so fuckin’ turned on watching one man suck another man’s dick? but i do. i watched them. watched brandon’s lips tighten around that shaft. watched his mouth take it in and out. watched his eyes close as he concentrated on the cock in his mouth. i got back on davey’s cock. but i kept my eyes open and watched brandon sucking kyle. the sounds in the cell. the wet rustle of kisses and lips. my boy was into it. he put his hands on the back of my shoulders and rocked me back and forth. i got a feeling. i know how to do what i do. add the hand around the cock. the mouth on top, keeping it all wet and slick. and move. tighten the hand and the lips. and move. he got harder. of course he did. i’m working a steady job on davey. but i gotta get my hand down and get mine out. finally. lifted my head a little and spit in my hand and wet my cock. try to find a comfortable position. suck dick. jerk on mine. watch the other two. brandon leans back then, his hands above his head and kyle undoes him. doesn’t go down, but takes brandon’s cock in his hand and easily pulls on it. brandon mirrors him. they kiss. and how long had any one been thinking about it? and was that the first time? and did any of them know that the other would do something like that? and were they fags or straight or what? why are you asking me. i’m just telling you about what happened between me and three men in a dallas jail cell. the sucking. the hands on cocks. the kissing. the watching. the watching the sucking the hands on cocks the kissing. i came first. probably cause i’m the big queer. i’m sucking davey off and i’m jerking on my cock and i shoot my load. i must have made some kind of noise. davey pulls away for a second, but i hold onto his dick & keep working it. he’s gonna do it. i’m gonna make you do it. oh, i’m gonna make you love me. yes i will. yes i will. he comes. sweet and watery. it fills up my mouth. i wait until he’s done then i open my mouth and let it all flow back down over his cock. we’ve had an audience. the skinny cowboy has seen what i’ve just done. he goes next. kyle looks surprised when a load suddenly shoots out of the dick in his hand. brandon’s hand goes faster and faster on kyle’s dick. guess what i hear. brandon’s voice, low and insistent. “come on, baby. do it. let me have it. come on, let daddy have it.” whoa. kyle closes his eyes and concentrates. he shoots. he jerks and twitches as his cum flies way off into the air. good show, bud. i remember davey. i turn my head. he’s been watching them, too. his eyes have glazed over and he has put a distance in them now. ‘s’ o.k. i’ll let you alone. i moved back to my corner of the room. the texas boys pull themselves together. i hear brandon and kyle exchange a few quiet words before i fall asleep. . i wake up sometime. it’s hard to tell whether i’ve been asleep for half-an-hour or half the night, because the low light has never changed. brandon has moved. he’s leaning up against the wall in the corner. his hand is resting on kyle’s head, which is lying in his lap while kyle lies outward, calmly and softly snoring. we observe each other with suspicion. i look over at davey. “he’s fine,” brandon says. “leave him alone.” i bristle. “i just wanted to make sure he was alright.” “he’s alright. leave him alone.” “what do you think i’m going to do. buttfuck him before he wakes up.” brandon regards me warily. “now don’t start talkin’ like that. he might hear you and take it the wrong way.” “he might take it any way i want to give it to him.” i wonder to myself why i’m being this way. his look got more impatient. “stop it. davey’s a nice boy. he’s already had too much happen to him last night to deal with your bullshit.” “it ain’t bullshit.” brandon smiled. “‘ain’t’? now i know you never talk like that up there in denver.” i smiled back. we might be able to deal with each other after all. i like a man who can call my bluff. “yeah, you’re right. it’s just being down here makes me sound like one of you boys.” “nobody’s goin’ to think you’re one of us boys.” “no, i guess not. i’m too pretty.” “yeah, you are.” “thank you. i think.” he gave a wry grin. i regarded them all. “not much competition here. you’re not bad, but these two don’t do much for gay style.” brandon glanced at me in perplexity. “davey’s not gay.” “he’s not?” “no.” “ain’t—sorry—isn’t he the one that was kissing me last night?” “well, yeah, he was doin’ that. that kinda surprised me too. but he ain’t gay.” “he let me suck his dick.” “that don’t prove nothin’. that was all your fault.” “my fault.” “yeah.” “he didn’t stop me.” “he was drunk. he was scared. he didn’t know what he was doin’.” “i don’t buy that.” “davey’s only twentytwo. he ain’t seen much of the world. he’s just a nice boy. he ain’t ever goin’ to do it again.” “yeah, right.” brandon looked at me. “davey’s straight. he’s gettin’ married next month.” “so what. that doesn’t mean anything.” “down here it does.” “down here.” “yeah.” i had to let that one sink in. “so what are you going to say to him when you all start discussing the events of last night.” brandon thought. “well, we’ll probably never talk about it.” “sounds pretty fucked-up to me.” “you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” “i know closet cases when i see them.” weariness was in his voice. “hey, guy. don’t do this. you’re as old as me. unless you’re a lot stupider than you look, you know it ain’t that easy.” “it’s easy for me.” “well you ain’t everybody.” i looked down at the man sleeping peacefully in his lap. “what about him?” brandon’s expression softened. “kyle? oh, kyle just needs a buddy.” “i think he likes you or something.” “yeah, well.” his eyes twinkled. “maybe you’re right. i know he’d do anything for me.” “i saw that.” his eyes got severe. “no, not that stuff. i mean . . . he’d do anything for me. if i asked him to.” i didn’t have much to say to that. i watched brandon stroking kyle’s hair. “he’s not really gay either, you know,” brandon quietly said. i thought about it. “no?” “no. kyle . . . kyle’s got too much on his mind to think about that. he might be bisexual, if you want to call it that. but we don’t talk about it.” “is that the first time you and he ever . . . ?” “ever what? did anything? nah, we have a couple of times. but it’s not what you think.” i hesitated. “what about you?” brandon looked over. “what about me?” “are you gay?” brandon looked at me more directly than he had yet. “maybe. but not like you.” “like me?” “i’m not out there like you. i can’t be. not here.” “you could move.” brandon paused. “no.” “why not.” “i got a good life here. everything’s in place right now.” “including kyle?” brandon’s eyes rounded and darkened. “especially kyle.” i had reached the end of trying. i was tired. and i’m not sure i understood. or that i wanted to. we sat there. brandon looked up. “this is my life, denver. i can’t leave.” it must have been later than i thought. someone came to the door and called my name. before i went out, i turned and said, “you take care now.” brandon smiled and held his finger up to his lips, signaling silence. i walked out. up into the world. back into the rescuing, welcoming arms of my posse.