Gay Erotic Stories

You know how it is when you’re so fucking tired and your muscles are aching and you lay down but you been fighting sleep so long you can’t really let go. Late summer and they was working us till dark, trying to get caught up on the lagging schedule. I must have lifted a ton of cement blocks since daylight and I could feel the weight of every damn one of ‘em. Too hot to sleep and maybe a cup of coffee too late in the evening. Result is, I’m laying there in my dark room and slowly going numb but just floating at the surface of sleep, never sinking under. I couldn’t get a cross breeze without leaving my door open to draft the window in the hall. Modesty is no consideration because of being up on the third floor of the rooming house and nobody comes up here but me and Dan, the guy across the hall. We got the cheap rooms, just tucked up under the eaves. I heard Dan come up the stairs. Didn’t have to open my eyes, I’d been hearing his footsteps for months. Funny, how you get to know somebody’s walk, just as familiar as their face. He wore boots that creaked and he kept his weight on his toes. A quiet tread, but sure. I was glad he’d come home because when his door was open I could get more breeze and he had a little tinny radio he played real low but the whispery music was better than the echoes of the old house and the sound of my breathing. He flipped on the hall light; I could see the dim glow through my eyelids. Mrs. Bentley only gave us a twenty-five watt bulb for the hall, just enough to see your key in the door. A few minutes later I heard him down in the bathroom at the end of the hall. He was running a bath and the pipes gurgled like women gossiping over secret deeds and favors. I drifted, quiet, but still floating on the surface. It was silent after a while and maybe I had slept. I didn’t know if Dan had gone to bed but the light was still glowing from the hall and the air was cool. I could hear the cotton curtains flutter on the sill. Some change in the geometry of the night made me open my eyes and he was there. Dan stood with crossed arms, leaning against the doorframe. He looked thinner, smaller without his clothes. He had a towel wrapped around him and his hair stuck out in spiky points around his head. “Hi”, I spoke low. My sleepy voice came out like a growl. He stood up straight and rubbed at his face. “I’s hoping you was still awake. Can’t see you much in the dark.” I didn’t think it was all that dark. “I’m awake, can’t seem to fall out. Too tired I guess.” I pulled a corner of sheet across my naked hips, it almost covered my privates before resisting more slack. If he could see me, he’d already seen everything, anyway. Didn’t much matter. After the Navy then prison, I sort of lost touch with personal privacy. “You worked late, too, huh?” “Yeah, just got in. Only, well, I’m out of smokes. Hoping I could get one of yours. You mind? I had a bath, didn’t wanna go back out...” “No problem. Come on in, don’t make me get up.” I sat up in bed and reached for the pack on the side table. He came over to stand by the bed. I slid over sideways. “Sit down, I’ll smoke one with you.” He sat sideways, facing me. It was a narrow bed. His hip was warm against my thigh. His weight tilted the mattress and my legs leaned into him. I’d lost the bit of sheet covering. I felt suddenly too close, too exposed for comfort. When I lit my cigarette and held the lighter up to him I could see my cock at half ready, pointing over at Dan and almost touching his towel. I scooted back, found the sheet and yanked it, lifted my butt and pulled out enough to drag across my lap. He watched, grinned. “If mine was that big I’d show it off, too!” “Wasn’t showing off, didn’t know I’d have company.” He chuckled. “I’s kidding, man. Don’t pay no ‘tention to me. Hey, I went by the Fuzzy Duck, thought I might find you in there. You bunked out early for a Friday night.” I pulled the ashtray down and put it on the bed between us. It slid down against my leg. “I was wore out, you know? Just too fucking tired to handle the noise and shit. Was Jenny over there?” “Yeah. She was there. She asked about you.” When he thumped his ashes his knuckles moved against my skin. It didn’t feel accidental. I lay quiet, thinking. Dan hung his cigarette off his lip and his hand came back to rest on my thigh. It was right at the edge of the sheet, an inch from my cock. Maybe it was natural and easy. Maybe it was meaningful. I couldn’t tell. I wouldn’t mind either way. “Was she with Reynolds?” “Yeah. But she played the tables, didn’t stay by him.” “I know how she is. Never mind.” “You miss her, don’t you?” His hand tightened on my leg. “Sometimes, Dan, sometimes I do. Not real bad, though. I’m okay.” I stubbed out my butt and rolled over a bit. It shoved my dick against his hand. He didn’t move away. He didn’t react but he stayed there. Felt nice, a hand that close. I lay back and shifted for a spot. The sheet slipped and there was my fat round tip sticking out. It grew another half inch in heated interest. He glanced down, then at my face. Even in the dim light I could see the question in his eyes. He put out his cigarette, too, but his hand came right back to the same spot. The skin felt cool when he left it, warm when he came back. I picked up the ashtray and leaned over to put it back on the table. My hips pushed to lever my shoulders and my cock jumped his knuckles and slid across the back of his hand. I rolled back and sighed. Dan looked down. His grip tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed. My cock pushed out in rampant need. Bellied up against his hand. I pulled the sheet aside and spread my thighs. He stared. His face was still and a little sad. “If you want it, go ahead. Get it”, I whispered, and then raised my ass, pumped upwards in a grinding bump. His eyes drifted to my face. They looked glittery, damp in their sparkling reflections. But he didn’t move, just looked at me. The slump of his shoulders was enough. “Hey, I’m sorry, Danny. Just so fucking horny, you know?” I covered it up. Relaxed into the bed. “You mad at me?” “No. You mad at me?” His palm gripped, again. My cock was still touching him. “Nawh. You can tease me if you want. I take what I can get.” I chuckled and reached out to lay a hand on his knee, shook it. When his legs spread I could see right up under his towel. I could see his cock and balls and everything. He was hard, yeah. He squeezed his eyes shut and made a frown, like I’d hurt him. “I never wanted you to know. I figured I could play it straight with you. Should have stayed out of your room, I was just looking, dreaming ... sorry if...” I shook his knee again, moved my hand to the inside of his thigh. There’s a hollow there, right above the knee. I stroked it. “Don’t start crying, okay? You ain’t done nothing. Anybody can look, right? I ain’t calling you names or nothing ... am I?” “No”, he shook his head, “...just ...” I reached higher, fingertips smoothed crisp hairs, bumped hanging weight that swung with my touch, bumped back... a firm stem, a prominent vein ... His hand moved from my thigh, lifted and encompassed, squeezed. His eyes stayed shut. He made a quiet whimper. His legs trembled. “Towel’s wet. Pull it off and lay down with me. There’s room. Keep me company, okay? I ain’t been sleeping good. I don’t like sleeping alone.” I pulled him to me, “Aw, Danny, don’t cry. How’s that? Feel good? That’s nice, huh?” ..................................... jackertoo@aol.com