Gay Erotic Stories

After our experience together (Tangled Up In The Garage) Dave seemed to shy away for a while. He refused to talk about what happened, and made an obvious point of avoiding situations where we could be alone and something like that could happen again. I guess all self-proclaimed straight guys have their boundaries, and we must have gone right to the limit of what he considered acceptable. But we're still great friends, as close as ever. He and his girlfriend got married, and I was the best man. We don't work together anymore, but we still see each other once or twice a month, over beers or barbeque at our houses. In the summer we play golf. One afternoon we were out by ourselves. The course wasn't deserted, but there weren't many other players around. We were taking it easy just hacking around and shooting the shit, needling each other like we always do. He still talks all the time about how horny he is, and how he wishes he could suck himself off. In a moment of drunken candor, he once told me he and his wife are already down to having sex only a couple of times a month. And though he brags all the time about what hot shit he is in the sack, in a separate moment of drunken candor, his wife told me he isn't nearly the expert he thinks he is. God I just cannot stop looking at him as he plays. He's a much better player than me, and when he is standing watching his shot fly off into the air, I am always behind him looking at the dense mat of coarse black hair that totally coats his legs and arms. At one point, he laid down on the ground to rest, propping himself up on his elbows with his knees up in the air. With his baggy shorts flopping open, it was an impossible opportunity to resist. Just one glimpse of his thighs and I'll have jackoff material for weeks. His legs are lolled open so much he's even partly exposed. As I stare down at him in awe, he looks up at me and grins lazily. "You just can't stop thinking about that, can you?" he asks. I'm in shock: this is the first even slight reference to our antics in the garage three years ago. "No, I can't," I replied. "You may not think about it as much as I do, but you can't tell me you don't think about it too." He grudgingly nodded, and made a comment for the umpteenth time about how horny he was and how bad he needed it and how infrequently it seemed to be happening. There's a maintenance shed and a small grove of trees right by the tee we were on, so I nodded toward it and said, "Let's go in there." "You're crazy, man; there's people all over! That's insane!" he shot back. But I could see the wheels turning in his mind. "It'll just take a couple of minutes: I know just what to do," I assured him. We grabbed our bags and stepped into the trees. In just moments we reached a small glade, totally out of sight of the course. I instructed him to unbutton his shorts and lie back down on the ground with his knees up just like a moment ago. I kneeled in front of him and reached back under him and grabbed the waistbands of his shorts and boxers and pulled them down all at once, just like that day in the garage. For somebody so opposed to what we had done and sketchy about what we were about to do, he already had half a hard-on going, jutting out of that thick dense forest of pubic hair. The treasure trail on his belly had, if anything, grown thicker and broader. As I gazed down at him, his erection rose up to its full height and was lying straight up on his hairy belly. I could even see it throbbing gently. I grabbed his heavy, loose scrotum and picked his nuts up and began squeezing them gently. A sharp intake of breath told me I was on the right track. I put them down and then picked them up a few more times. I picked his swollen penis up and pulled it up away from his body, and then just let it fall back onto his furry stomach. A groan this time. "Pretty horny, huh?" "Dude, you have absolutely no idea." Just then I could hear the voices of the golfers behind us discussing where we were and whether they should play through. We were quiet until we heard them tee off and then I knew we'd have at least 10 minutes alone. Meanwhile my cock and ball play continued and I could see the sweat beginning to break out on his brow. He was even thrusting his hips up and down slightly. All this time and he was dying for it. I smiled an inward smile of pleasure, and reached into my golf bag and pulled out a packet of lube. I broke it open and smeared it onto my hands and then began to work on his sturdy cock. I grabbed it by the base and began making corkscrewing jacking motions up and down the shaft, but avoiding his thick purple cock head. With my other hand I kept massaging his nuts, which were becoming knotted and swollen and tight from his rising excitement. I knew it wouldn't last long: even avoiding the head he was just so horny and worked up it wouldn't be more than a couple of minutes. Sure enough, his breath started coming in gasps and then he let out a moan and the familiar gushes of hot semen began squirting out of him. I aimed his cock so it shot off to one side onto the grass next to him, and then the rest fell onto his hairy stomach. He lay there, red-faced, gasping and panting. "Dude, man, shit, man, that was awesome," was all he could get out. "Of course it was, and you know I would be happy to do things like that for you anytime you want," I said. "If you don't feel comfortable replying that's okay. But that kind of relief is yours for the asking." We cleaned ourselves up and resumed the game without anyone seeing us emerge from the bushes. That was a week ago, and I know the seed is now firmly planted in his mind. It won't be three years before the next time, and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to break down his barriers and get at least a little reciprocation. If you want to comment on this story or learn about some of the other ones I've written, write to: woozer41@aol.com