Gay Erotic Stories

Lots of kids say that they want to run away and join the circus or to tour the country as a carnival worker or something equally "glamorous". I was one of those kids, but not because I really wanted to be in the carnival. There was only one reason I had the desire to run away every year that the carnival tore down from the park across the street from our house....Cash! No, I'm not talking about money. The "Cash" I wanted was one of the carny workers whose name was Cash....Cash McCall. I had just turned fourteen the first year he came to town with the Burdick Brothers Carnival and Attractions Company. My bedroom window was on the second floor in the front of our house which faced the park. Their trucks and trailers and dilapidated autos pulled into town on a Wednesday night and I was awakened Thursday morning to the sounds of the workers busy at assembling the rides. It was mid- July and the temperature was in the 80's already by 10:00 in the morning. From my bed I could hear one dominant voice over all the rest. His deep barking orders were liberally sprinkled with obscenities the like of which I (as a minister's son) should never be hearing. Good thing my father was gone that week (he had this church convention scheduled every year at that particular time) or he'd probably have gone out and tried to clean up the guy's vocabulary. Our live-in housekeeper's hearing was so bad she wouldn't be able to hear the guys swearing if they were in the front room of the house. I climbed out of bed and kind of crawled over to the window in hopes that the carny workers wouldn't notice me watching them. A large oak tree obscured my vision of the guy who was apparently running the set-up process. At least it hid his upper half. I could see a pair of blue-jeans and pointed- toe cowboy boots beneath the branches of the oak. The guy suddenly moved over to the "Tilt-a- whirl" to assist another worker and I caught my breath as I got a good look at the guy's bare upper body. His chest and shoulders and back were very broad, tapering down to a narrow waist and graced on either side by a pair of muscular tattooed arms. The best thing about this guy - (as if what I'd already noted wasn't enough) was the thick brown- flecked-with-blond coat of coarse hair that completely blanketed the man. He reminded me of a big blond bear with all that hair on his chest, shoulders and yes, even on his back. I spent the whole day at my window, staring out at him and listening to his foul, filthy mouth as he issued abusive orders to the other workers. The first time Mrs. Carmody (the house- keeper) called me down for lunch I ignored her, the next time I said I wasn't hungry but then the blond guy evidently took a break for lunch so I decided I would grab a sandwich as well. "Hey Cash" I heard someone call out, and the object of my adoration appeared again from a trailer close by. He had a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other. I watched as he finished off the sandwich, took a big slug of his beer and wiped him mouth with the back of his hand and then wiped the hand off in the thick bushy mat of hair that covered his muscular chest. I spent the entire weekend roaming the carnival, saw him about a dozen times but never again without his shirt on. Cash in a tank top was almost as good though, and he almost always wore those in the heat of July. He made the rounds throughout the carnival rides, running the Ferris wheel, the "zipper" and the Tilt-a-whirl periodically. Whichever ride he was monitoring was the one I stood in line to ride over and over. On Monday morning I hoped that I'd see him again bare-chested while they dismantled the carnival rides but a sudden cool snap meant that none of the workers who were taking the rides down were shirtless, and Cash wasn't even there. I cursed myself for not having had a camera there on that first morning I saw him. The next year (just days after my 15th birthday) I waited impatiently for the carnival to arrive. I was determined that if Cash McCall was back again I would make some kind of contact this time. My father was again out of town and it was hotter than hell again as the carnival was being set up. I pretended to work out in the yard that day, in hopes of catching an up-close look at Cash McCall. By 4:00 p.m. most of the rides were ready to go and I'd seen nothing of the beautiful blond bear from the previous year. All of a sudden I had this terrible gut-feeling that he was no longer with the carnival. Just as I was feeling my lowest a group of three appeared. In the center was a big guy in blue jeans and cowboy boots, wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off and unbuttoned halfway down to expose his thickly blanketed chest. Hanging onto each muscled and tattooed arm was a slutty looking woman wearing short- shorts and tops that were tied in the center just below huge breasts. Someone called after him saying "Cash, we need your help here" to which the big blond replied "You handle it Corky. Can't you see I've got my hands full here?" he said, and one of the two sluts said ""Not just your hands honey..." and she openly rubbed her hand over his bulging crotch while her companion ran her hands through the dense blanket of fur on his chest. The three disappeared into a trailer and I had no doubt what was happening. On the final day of the carnival that year I was determined to talk to him. I waited until the Ferris wheel was completely full and then I went up to stand in line. With any luck there would be a few moments before the next bunch of those waiting for the next round arrived. He held out his hand to me and I handed him my ticket, hand shaking as I did. If he noticed he didn't say anything. "Hey mister, what do you have to do to join the circus?" and he laughed at me. "Shi-i-it kid! If you're like me you come from a family where your old lady has a new boy friend every week and he usually beats the shit out of her kids to teach them to mind. If you're like me you get caught in bed with the neighbors wife and her husband comes in and catches you and threatens to blow your dick to Detroit with the shot-gun he's holding up against your ass. If you're like me you drop out of school at fifteen and lie to the carny owner and say that you're eighteen. And if you're a really hairy fucker like me you can convince the guy that you ARE eighteen when you're really only fifteen. If you're like me you get hot bitches like the two sister who are back in my trailer taking turns fucking one another with this big goddamned dildo to keep them busy until I get off work and can give them the real thing. You ain't like me kid!" he said, suggesting that I stay in school and then go to college and then get a job as a straight-arrow accountant. Years sixteen and seventeen were very similar and I was losing my mind. By then I had saved up enough money to purchase a telescoping lens for my camera and had set up a make-shift darkroom in the basement. I took roll after roll of shots from inside the house and stared at them the other 360 days of the year when he wasn't around. Well before my graduation from high school my father had planned out my future. I was to attend a small Christian college a few hours drive from us. He wasn't insisting that I follow his foot- steps and become a minister but I think he figured that once I got into the college routine I would make that decision on my own. I'd filled out a lot in the last five years, every push-up and bench press an effort to develop my body to look like Cash McCall. He'd not changed nearly so much in the five years, except that he appeared to be even hairier than I'd first remembered him, and his leathery tanned skin had a few crows- feet right around the eyes. It was hard to say how old he was. I'd guess maybe late thirties or earl forties, certainly younger than my father who was approaching fifty. Again I timed my appearance at his ride so that it was just him and me at the entrance of the ride. "Hey, remember me?" I asked him, and he gave me a good hard look then shook his head no. "I talked with you years ago about joining the carnival and you tried to talk me out of it or at least waiting until I was out of high school" (Okay, I didn't relate exactly what he'd said to me). "You still interested?" he asked, and I told him I was....more than ever. "Tell you what kid, why don't you get hold of a 12-pack of beer and come to my trailer after closing tonight and we'll talk about it" "Yeah sure, what time?" I asked, and he said to show up after midnight. "Is that a problem?" "Oh no" I lied, wondering how I was going to manage to purchase a 12-pack of beer in a town where I was known to everyone. It was early enough for me to take my dad's car and drive to the neighboring town (where I was not as well recognized) and I pulled up in front of a package liquor store. I waited until I saw four other patrons enter the store and I slipped in without the counter person even seeing me. I went to the cooler and simply picked up a twelve-pack and started back toward the check-out counter. It was really pretty easy to do. I waited until the old man at the head of the line asked for a lottery ticket and the salesman had to turn his back to us to punch the desired numbers into the lotto machine. I simply walked out the door with my beer and hoped that my pounding heart wouldn't give me away. All the way home I checked my rear-view mirror to check for police lights. Mrs. Carmody was out like a light, dad was at his annual convention and I was bold enough to put the twelve- pack into the fridge to keep it cold. Shortly before midnight I grabbed the case of beer and sneaked over across the street to the park. It was pretty well deserted except for a few stragglers who were reluctant to leave. The rides had shut down half an hour earlier so the younger kids had no reason to hang around longer. I kept in the shadows just in case anyone saw the minister's kid walking through the park with a 12-pack of Budweiser under his arm. I should've put it into a bag or something but didn't think. I stepped up to the trailer that McCall had pointed out to me earlier as his and knocked lightly at the door. No response, so I knocked a bit louder. Finally, I heard him call out "Yeah I'm comin'" and soon the door to the trailer opened and I couldn't help but draw in a quick breath at what I saw. Oh shit! He needed a shave badly, had a cigarette dangling from his mouth and held a half- empty bottle of cheap whiskey in his hand (I knew it was cheap because I'd killed time in the liquor store by going up and down the aisle and pretending to compare prices of whiskey. The bottle Cash had was the least expensive). He wore no shirt or pointed-toe cowboy boots, but he did have on a pair of tight-fitting jeans that bulged out in the crotch considerably. "Hey kid, you made it. I thought you might chicken out" he greeted me, handed me his whiskey bottle and offered me a swig. "No thanks" I said and he gave me a disapproving look. "I mean...uh...I'll just have a beer or two .....or more" I said and he laughed as he took another huge gulp from the bottle. His small trailer felt like an oven it was so hot inside and the small oscillating fan mounted on the wall above the bed seemed to do little to help. Cash was sweating, making the thick hairiness of his body damp and the dim light of the lamp made the hairs glisten. "Pretty fuckin' hot in here ain't it?" he asked and I lied and said it wasn't so bad. "This is what being a carny is kid. You live in places like this your whole life. C'mon let's pop those beers open and I'll tell you more about this life. Why don't you take your shirt off and get more comfortable. The heat in here won't be gettin' much better". "Yeah okay, sure" I said, taking his his comment more of a command than a suggestion. I took my shirt off and folded it neatly over the back of a chair. He laughed at that but then commented that I was certainly built well enough to be in the carnival. "It's fuckin' hard work to put this place up and tear it down 50 times a year. If you don't come in with muscles you sure get them soon." "Check this out" he said, lifting his arm and flexing to cause his bicep to bulge incredibly. He held the pose as I said "Wow!" "Go on. Touch it!" he said, and I squeezed the rock-hard muscle. One tattoo was right near it and I traced my finger over the figure of a devil-like creature that my father's books would have used as a depiction of Satan himself. "You like tattoos?" he asked me, and I replied that I certainly liked his. "You'd look great with a tat kid. Sometimes you can hardly see mine through all the hair". "Yeah...um...I noticed you're....well you're pretty hairy" I stuttered and stammered. "Are you like this all over?" He nodded and stood up, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and said "All over! You wanna' see?" and he didn't wait for my answer. Instead, he yanks his jeans down to preset me with the hairiest ass and legs I'd ever seen or imagined I would see. "What do you think kid?" he said, and I was too speechless to answer at all. Then he turned him- self around and I had to gasp at what I saw. There, springing out of a thick pubic bush that was slightly darker than the rest of his body coat was a cock of incredible proportions. It had to be a foot long, and was about as big around at the base as one of the beer cans I'd been holding. I'd never seen anything so big except once at my friend's horse-farm. "Did you get that from working the carnival?" I finally managed to say, and he grinned at me saying "No, I think I got this from my daddy, who ever the son-of-a-bitch was! Go on kid, suck it! That's what you've wanted all these years isn't it? How many years have you been wanting to get your hands and your mouth on Cash McCall's big hairy body?" "But I've never....I mean I'm afraid I'll choke....and...." I started to say, and he took my shoulders and forced me to my knees in front of him. "Go on kid, just do what feels good and I'll do the rest!" The fat angry head of his cock was right at my mouth and I touched my tongue against it. It had a somewhat strong taste and aroma to it but I dug it immediately. I swirled over the entire head and then took the first inches of the shaft into my mouth. Then a bit more, and with each lunge down onto it I managed to choke a bit more of his huge man-meat into my face. There was no way I could take it all. I knew that! But I was determined to jam as much as I could into my mouth. As I got more comfortable with the invading organ I allowed my hands to roam all over his hairy body, over his flat belly, his bulging pecs, his beefy legs and his nice firm ass. Ever part of this crude-talking face-fucking man was thickly coated with hair and I loved every coarse strand of it against my hands. "Aw shit, aw get ready you hot cock-sucker. I'm gonna' flood your belly with spunk. I'm gonna' fuckin' cum!" he warned me and I started swallowing furiously as the first jets of his load exploded into me. I couldn't keep up though, and he pulled his big cock out of my mouth, still spewing it's contents all over my face and hair and onto the front of my bare chest. I felt as if I'd already swallowed a bucket- load of the stuff and it just kept on coming. I used my hand to direct the stuff to my mouth and gobbled up every thick rich drop of it. Meanwhile, Cash leaned back against the table and said "Shi-i-i-it! You don't act like you're new at this kid. Let's see if you've got what it really takes to be a carny boy. Take your jeans off!" I slowly slipped my denim slacks off and again (force of habit) folded them neatly over the chair. "The boxers too" he said, and I removed my freshly laundered boxers as well. Standing before him completely naked I felt a chill even though the small trailer had to be at least 110 degrees. "Yeah, not bad" he said and I felt a surge of pride. My muscles and cock couldn't compare to his, and of course I had almost no hair to speak of, just a dusting on my legs and butt and a bit more around my own 8 inch cock. "Lay down on the bed" he ordered me, and I did as told. It was not very big, and the sheets were soiled from long periods of use and little washing. I could see thousands of individual hairs on the sheet, they must've come from Cash's hairy butch body. He came over to the bed and leaned over me, took my cock into his mouth entirely in one big gulp and sucked it a few times before I couldn't take it any more and I popped my own ample load into his mouth. He didn't miss a drop but held a big mouthful of it and stood up over my face. With his hands he forced my mouth open and then he allowed my own spunk to dribble from his mouth into mine. What a turn-on that was, eating my own come from his mouth. He bent down and pressed his lips to mine, shoved his tongue roughly into my mouth and allowed me to taste the inside of his cigarette/whiskey/come-filled mouth. "Did I pass the test?" I asked him when we finally broke for air and he said that was just part of it. "There's more to come kid, much more!" he said with an evil grin on his ruggedly handsome face. He ran his whiskered face down my smooth front and it felt like sandpaper against my skin. Once he returned to my midsection he took my balls into his mouth and sucked each of them, an act that brought my cock back to immediate erection. I was hoping he'd suck it again, but instead he lifted my legs up and pressed his whiskered face right up into the crack of my butt. It chafed my skin raw but I liked it, and when he shoved his tongue up my ass-hole I shot my second load, arcing it up into the air and landing it against my own chest. He picked up the whiskey bottle from the floor next to us and took a huge gulp of it, held that in his mouth and returned to my ass-hole. I could feel the moisture of the whiskey in my butt-crack and soon began to realize that he was forcing the liquid up my hole. It felt great for a while, but then soon I realized I was losing feeling, becoming numbed. He reached for the bottle again and I said "Don't do that. I can't feel anything". "Yeah that's right kid. You can't feel nothin' right now, but you'll thank me in a couple of minutes for deadening your tight little ass-hole. And trust me, you're gonna' feel something!" Right then Cash pulled my knees up to my chest and climbed onto the tiny bed with me. I saw the thick veins of his cock popping out and the angry-looking huge head of it as he positioned it at the opening of my ass. "Get ready kid, you're about to get the fucking of your life!" I felt a little dull pressure against the opening of my butt and he asked if it hurt. "No" I answered honestly. Then he pushed harder and I felt his enormous head slip into me, past the tight muscle ring right at the opening. "Yeow!" I said, and he told me to shut up and take it like a man. "C'mon kid you like it don't you? You want all of Cash's big cock up your hot little ass don't you?" "Yes I want it! I want all of it! I want you to fuck me really hard man! I want you to hurt me!" I said to him, meaning every word I said. Soon he said to me "Jesus Christ kid, you've got it all. Almost nobody takes Cash McCall up the ass all the way, certainly not some cherry-assed kid" He seemed somewhat astonished. "Well I did! I took it all you big hairy ape- man. Now fuck me!" I could hardly believe what I was saying, like it was someone else talking, but I knew I wanted to be pumped and pistoned and filled with this beautifully hairy man's load. We literally fucked the night away. What I learned about halfway through the night was that Cash was as willing to take it up the ass as he was to fuck me. Each time we did it I got better and he told me I was the best fuck he'd ever had. "Even better than those twin girls a couple of years ago?" I asked, and he said they couldn't come close. "Still want to join the carnival?" he asked me just as the sun was coming up. "More than ever" I replied, and he instructed me to go back home and get some things together while he helped dismantle the rest of the carnival (most of that work had been done by the younger workers during the night while we fucked our brains out in his trailer). "Go to the bank and close out whatever accounts you have and meet me back here at 8:30" he said. "Unless you decide you don't want to go" "Oh hell no Cash, I really want to go!" I told him. My bank account wasn't huge, but I had several thousand dollars saved for college. The teller at the local bank questioned my complete withdrawal but I made up some bullshit about having to send in tuition payment before my dad got back into town from his convention. At 8:28 I slipped out the back door of the house, never giving any indication to Mrs. Carmody what was going on. I thought about leaving a note for my dad but knew he'd try to track me down and make me return. No, it would be better to wait a few days and call him from somewhere to say that I was fine but wasn't coming home. Not ever! I met Cash at his trailer. He'd put his jeans back on but was still bare-chested and I felt myself stiffen immediately at the sight of him. His trailer was connected to a beat-up pick-up truck and he told me he'd gotten someone to drive it. "That means we can go back into the trailer and get acquainted on the trip to our next town" he said. "Where's that?" I wondered aloud and he told me it was clear across the country. "Hell boy, we may not come out of that trailer for a week!"