Gay Erotic Stories

I’ve just returned from the airport, where I saw my big brother off to his home in Atlanta. He embraced me as they announced boarding of his flight, his thumb and forefinger inching between us to give my right nipple a squeeze. He breathed into my ear, "I love you, Matt." And I love him. Long holiday weekends usually bring us together, either here or at his home. We realized that this Labor Day was eighteen years since we first discovered how close and loving two brothers could be. I was sixteen and Steven was about to turn eighteen. In many ways, you would never have thought we were brothers. Steven is blonde and green eyed, while I’m sandy brown and dark eyed. At six-two, he’s about three inches taller than I am, very broad through the chest and shoulders, and except for a faint trail leading down to his pubes, totally smooth. I had to work hard to get my lean and lanky body more muscular, where he was seemingly born with cut pecs and a six-pack. Like Steven, my chest is totally smooth, but my legs are covered with dark hair. We didn’t grow up exhibiting our bodies to each other, though I’d seen him naked when we were young kids. In high school, I knew I was gay, but didn’t act on it. Paul, one of my best friends from the cross-country team was also gay, and he had a long-standing crush on Steven, who played baseball and generally was the guy that all the underclassmen looked up to. Paul confessed that he wanted to kiss every inch of Steven’s body. I just shook my head. I couldn’t think about Steven in that way. It was right before school started for my junior year and Steven’s senior year. Our parents had gone away for a long weekend, trusting us to take care of the house. We deserved it, since neither of us was likely to hold a wild party or burn the place down. I think that I felt a little down because, despite the fact that Steven and I went our separate ways, I knew that in a year he’d be off to college and I’d be by myself. We watched TV that Thursday night, after ordering in a pizza and went to bed around midnight. About an hour later, I was jolted out of my sleep by the sound of a shout coming from Steven’s room next door. I hopped out of bed and dashed around the corner and into his bedroom. He was sitting up in bed, shaking, with tears streaming down his face. "Steven, what’s wrong?" He sobbed. I’d never seen him like this before. I sat on the side of his bed. "I was scared," he managed to get out. "I didn’t want anything to happen to you…" He’d had a nightmare in which I was trapped in a wrecked car and he was struggling to get me out. I told him that it was just a dream, but he continued to shake. I lay down beside him and pulled him close, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. "It’s okay, Steven, I’m fine. We’re both safe." He laid his head across my chest and gasped for breath. "It’s safe, I’m here with you," I said, as I ran my fingers through his hair. "I just love you, Matty," he said. "I couldn’t lose you." "You won’t lose me. I’m right here. It’s just the two of us." I leaned over and kissed the top of his head. His breathing eased and he raised his head to look up at me. "It is just us, isn’t it, Matty?" "Of course it is," I replied. "Nothing can change that." It was a strange turn of events. Steven had always been my big brother, willing to step in and take my side or let me fight my own battles, as I wanted. He’d taken care of me, and now I was taking care of him. He lowered his head back on to my chest and very deliberately kissed it. At that moment, it seemed just comforting and affectionate, at least I told myself that. He rested his head against me for another minute, the light stubble of his cheek brushing my chest, as I continued to stroke his head gently. He raised himself slightly and kissed my right nipple, once then a second time. It grew hard at the touch, and my heart began to pound in my chest. "Steven…" I began. He answered by returning to kiss my stiffening nipple, his tongue now extending to circle it and flick gently across the tip. I was scared, mostly of the pleasure that I felt and the feeling like an electric shock that was running through my body. "Steven, don’t…" He stopped and looked at me, his eyes clear now. "Don’t because you don’t want me to, or don’t because you think you shouldn’t want me to?" Now it was my turn to have trouble breathing. "I don’t…know. It just seems…" His eyes blazed. "Don’t you say wrong. Because this is the only thing that I’ve felt right about. And you know it’s true." Somehow now my eyes were full of tears. "I wasn’t going to say wrong. I was going to say…scary." "Well, good. That’s much better than creepy," he laughed and I joined him, sniffling a little. "I’ve just never…I mean I…" "Me neither, Matty. No guys, no girls. I’ve never done more than make out with a girl." I stared at him. Steven had always dated plenty, and I found it stunning that he could be inexperienced sexually. As if he read my mind, he continued, "I never felt that for anyone, even though I know I’ve always liked guys. Just like you do." I couldn’t speak. "But don’t you understand, Matt? You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be with. I love you, more than just as a brother. I want…" He took a deep breath. "I want to make love to you, Matt. Now and always." He didn’t wait for an answer, but raised his head and leaned in, kissing me lightly. It did feel right, and I returned his kiss. Our tongues intertwined and explored each other’s mouths, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his muscled torso. It was like the dam broke, and we were all over one another. Our hands, our tongues were going everywhere. I eased him onto his back, raising his arms and pinning them against the bed. I began at his ears and slowly worked my tongue down across his shoulders, to his chest, tracing the lines of his firm pectorals with my tongue, licking and sucking each of his nipples, and catching them lightly with my teeth. He gasped my mouth worked across his upper arm and into the sweet depths of his armpit. He worked a hand free and began running his fingers down my back, going beneath the elastic band of my boxers to squeeze my lightly hairy ass. With a swift movement, he wrapped an arm around my lean body and turned our bodies so we were side by side, facing one another. "God, but I love you, Matt." "I love you, too." His fingers lightly ran across my chest and down to my stomach. He eased himself up, settling me on my back to gaze up at him. He knelt beside me, his eyes never leaving mine, and he began easing my boxers off. I raised my hips and he stretched the elastic to allow my hardened cock to be released. At last he began surveying my body with his eyes. I felt, at that moment, more naked than I ever had. I felt ashamed because he was so beautiful, as though carved from marble, and I felt like a lanky kid. I couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe as he studied me. At last he looked into my eyes again, and leaned over to kiss me gently on the mouth. His voice was husky. "You’re beautiful, Matt. Flawless. My God." I laughed for a moment and turned my head. "Look at me." Steven gripped my chin and turned me back to face him. "You don’t even know it, do you? You don’t know how incredible you are, or how people look at you, or how I’ve felt wanting you and never being able to have anything but quick glances at you." "That’s crazy," I said. "You’re the one who’s…" "No, Matt." He began to laugh. "Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that I bust into the bathroom whenever you’re taking a shower, just because I want to see you through that damned steamed up curtain?" I broke up. "I figured you just wanted to look at yourself in the mirror!" "Not a chance. I just wanted to pull that curtain back and step in beside you, just press my body against yours. Like right now." He kissed me deeply. "I want you to see yourself as I see you." He began an inventory of my body, beginning at my face. He stroked and touched me, as he listed off the virtues of my form. After each bit of praise, he would kiss that part of me. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see any mocking in his expression, and unable to believe that he was speaking the truth from his heart. When he reached my hips, he broke off and started down at my feet, working his way back up toward the middle. At last, his fingers lightly touched between my legs. I stiffened, and my dick jumped. "Look at this ball sack," he was saying. It’s smooth and hairless, hanging above these incredible furry legs." He rolled my nuts gently between his fingers, holding each one and kissing each in turn. "And this…" His fingers stroked up the length of my shaft. "This is perfect." I opened my eyes and looked down at him, his handsome face just inches above my cock. I could feel his warm breath light across my pubic hair. "Do you mean that?" I whispered. "Perfect," he repeated. "It feels…like mine, only better. Like I always wanted it to feel, like I always knew it could." With that, he raised my stiff cock and kissed up the underside, beginning at the base and ending at the very tip. I’d never felt very confident about myself in that way. It seemed like other guys in the shower at school were hung bigger than I was. It seemed like I was average in every way, where my big brother was extraordinary. I’d seen him in tight shorts and thought he was pretty big. And I wanted it. "Now it’s time, Steven. I want to see all of my big brother." We kissed, and I began taking command of his body, exploring and savoring every part of it. At last, I slipped his white briefs down, careful not to catch his swollen cock as I pulled them down across his thighs and off. I couldn’t take my eyes off his stiff dick. It was magnificent." "Now this is perfect," I said. "It’s just like yours, Matty. Just like your beautiful, hard cock." "Just bigger than mine," I smiled. "Uh-uh. We’re the same. I knew it as soon as I touched it. It was like touching myself. Here, I’ll prove it." He pulled me over him, so I was straddling his body. He pressed our cocks together, and wrapped his hands around them. His blonde bush and my dark one intertwined. "You see? Six and seven-sixteenths a piece of beautiful, perfect cut cock." I looked up at him. He shrugged. "Hey, so I’ve measured. Big deal." We began laughing and held each other close. The rest of the night is as clear to me now as it was when we watched the sun come up together eighteen years ago. The previous day we had been two very different brothers, two virgins who had never felt the real expression of love. In those few hours, we had forged an unshakable bond of honesty, of passion, and togetherness. There was nothing but equality and love as we lay side by side, his mouth sliding up and down my shaft as his cock filled my mouth. As each of us exploded in that first orgasm and shot into each other with perfect synchronicity, I couldn’t imagine anything could be as sweet or as right. When Steven straddled my body, arching his back as he eased his muscular ass down onto my cock, a stream of moonlight cut across his perfect, smooth chest. When he mounted me, pressing that hot hard dick into my tight butt, as my legs wrapped around his powerful back, he leaned over and we kissed with abandon. All these years later (I’m 34 and he’s nearly 36) it’s still like a dream every time we’re together. It’s hard to believe he could be better than he was half a lifetime ago, but he is. I’ve been with my lover David for 7 years here in Baltimore; Steven’s been in Atlanta with Mike for 8 years. Somehow, David and Mike never protest about Steven and me having some times just the two of us. It’s as though they understand without us having to explain anything. The four of us always see each other for Christmas at our parents and alternate years for Thanksgiving. In fact, at Christmas two years ago, our mother was (of all things) reading us a Cosmo quiz. Mike got the question, "Are you the love of your partner’s life?" Mike thought a moment. "Well, let’s just say I’m a close second. Right, David?" He and David began to laugh. My mother closed the magazine. "I think it’s time to stop this quiz," she arched an eyebrow. "The next question goes to Steven and it reads, ‘If you have a brother, do you think he’s hot?’" Our boyfriends howled. Steven grinned and turned to me, as we sat side by side by the fireplace. "He’s perfect," he whispered.