Gay Erotic Stories

I thought back to us massaging each other to stroking our chest, to him giving me a hand-job and cumming into his warm hands. It felt odd to do something everyone I know would say is unnatural and gross, but to also enjoy it and want it again. I became depressed. Dennis began to act possessive about me at school. He didn’t want me to talk to other people. Naturally I felt trapped by him and what happened. At one point he threatened to tell people what happened between us. As the years went on, we thankfully went our own ways as he got a girl friend and I moved on too and out with some new friends. During the years my body caught up with me brain. While I wasn't comfortable with my sexuality, I was comfortable with my body. I was a bit taller and filled out the tank tops and boxer briefs I wore. I was 5'9", dark brown hair, 145lbs, and well built. I worked at a farm for a few years and had developed good muscle tone in my pecs, arms, and thighs. At night did sit ups and crunches and lifted weights. I wasn't huge, but I was decent looking. I had more hair under my arms, some across my chest, down to my naval and down my thighs, legs, and arms. For a while I grew a goatee, but shaved it in the summer months. Mentally, I had more friends and when we all graduated. I felt more together and adjusted: I felt like I was ready to move on to the next step.

During the summer after graduation I got more and more uneasy. I didn't have a job and I was nervous to start college in the fall. I also kept thinking back to the night Dennis touched me and I want to be with him again. So much had changed since then though. I decided what had changed about me would help me deal with meeting Dennis again.

One day, when I knew no one was going to be home, I called Dennis' parents house. I had just got in from mowing the lawn and my tank top was stuck to me, the top of my shorts were soaked from sweat as well, and my head was drenched. While I was still outside I poured water over my head and felt the cold water flow down my sweaty chest and into my boxer brief underwear. It turned me on having the water pour down my hot body and I thought of Dennis. I took a quick shower changed into a fresh white tank, black boxers, and khaki shorts, and as I said, called his house.

I figured as far as his mom knew Dennis and I were still good friends so it wouldn’t be weird if I called. He got on the line and I said hi. At this point we hadn't talked much for two years. I know he was surprised that I would call him out of the blue. Dennis asked why I called. I told him, a lie, that I had a dream with him in it the night before and I freaked me out a bit. I wasn't sure how I was going to bring this up, but this dream idea seemed like a good idea. He asked me to describe it; I guessed that he knew where this was headed. I told him in my dream I was thanking him and that I told him it was now his turn. I didn't say, but I meant that it was his turn to 'get off' as I had done years before.

He asked if I was alone and I said yes and he finally asked to come over so we could talk about what happened. I said yes and hung up. I was nervous, part of me in my head was thinking that I just wanted to talking things over with Dennis and settle my mind so I could move on. Part of me also wanted to see his body again and touch him. Years before Dennis was hot. The years had only helped him grow, as they had done for me. When I saw him in the halls I saw that he grew a little taller and fuller. He kept his blond hair and brown eyes. He was now about 6' and 155lbs. He joined the track team, which with practice and steady working out, had bulked him up from his natural toned body. His pecs were a bit more visible in the shirts he wore. His arms were even thicker and his shoulder broader. He face had constant dirty blond stubble on it.

I paced while I waited and thought about what I would do if he wanted to get physical again. Would I do it? Would he?

His car pulled up and he wore an old t-shirt, with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of old shirts and sandals. He was hot and he had a concerned look on his face. I greeted him inside and he said I looked good. We sat next to each other on the couch and made small talk about where people were going for school and how things had changed. He finally asked me again about my dream. I repeated what I said on the phone and we started talking about that night a couple years ago when we touched each other. I told him that I was really freaked out by it.

He wanted to know why. I said that it felt wrong and immoral then. He asked if I enjoyed it and I said yes that it felt good physically to be hugged and touched. I asked him if he enjoyed it and he said yes. He asked if I was comfortable around him. Not wanting to be rude I said that I did. I said that either we had seen all of me, as a friend, and he had seen my body and that I couldn't help but be comfortable for those reasons. It got awkward for a moment, well, it continued to be a bit awkward when he said his heart was racing a mile a minute. My pulse had quickened too as I sat on the edge of the sofa facing him.

He put his hand out and touched my chest where my heart was. His hand was warm through the fabric of my tank top. He asked if I wanted to feel his heart. I did the same to him, felt his hear pumping quickly then I withdrew my hand. He then asked if I was turned on right then. I said I was and he asked why. I told him the memory of what we did turned me on. He asked what I liked about it. I said it just felt good, having someone touch my body just felt good. I was wondering why he was asking these questions. I think he wanted to know why I didn't actually sleep with him in his bed that night. After cumming in his hand I was too freaked out to go any farther with him and I slept on a cot in his room. He asked why I helped him take off his shirt. I said that I wanted to feel him and see his body. I said that he was more developed than I was and I wanted to feel what it was like what would happen. I couldn’t believe I said that. I didn’t think that exactly true at the time, but I needed an answer for him. I didn't want to just admit that I liked touching him and seeing his body. That would have been admitting that I was gay.

I asked if he was aroused and he said he was. He asked if I wanted to do something about it. He asked if I "wanted to do something" and he tilted his head and looked at me carefully. After thinking I said that if we were to "do something" then it must stay between us and that we couldn’t tell anyone. He promised then moved closer to me. He asked if I wanted to stay here or go up to my room. I murmured that my room was a mess. He said he didn't care and I affirmed that I would prefer to stay there on the couch.

He then leaned closer and asked what I wanted to do. I asked him to turn around so I could start to massage him, like we used to. He said that we were beyond that. I peeled off my tank top, hoping that he would do the same so I could see his upper body. I removed my shoes and socks. He did the same then leaned over me and undid the button of my shorts and undid the zipper. He then pushed my briefs down, just as he did those years ago. Precum had wet my cock a bit. The conversation just turned me on in anticipation for this. He said, "It looks like something all ready happened." I was too overwhelmed to say that it was just precum. He wrapped his hands around my shaft and began to stroke me quickly. My hips rose up his my lubed dick grew larger in his hand. He then leaned down to my crotch and put my hard-on in his mouth. He sucked in and breathed his hot air around my dick. It felt amazing. He moved his lips up and down. He let up and asked if I like it. I breathlessly said yes. He went down on me again and gently rubbed his teeth against my shaft as he took me in and out of his mouth. He then let up. I leaned over him and undid the buttons of his shirt. I could all ready see through the layers that he was aroused.

I flipped the zipper flaps to each side after I let the zipper down and saw his boxers. I was surprised to not see the same Fruit of the Loom briefs he wore years before. The ones I pushed my hands down the front of and felt his shaft and inner thighs. His loose boxers were plaid and I pushed them over his cock and under his sack. This was the first time I had actually seen his dick. It was long and very thick. It was probably 8" long and his cut head tapered to a dull point. His balls were large and hairy with dirty blond heat. I could smell the damp must from his crotch.

I started to play with his shaft and head the way he played with my cock all those years before. I flipped it down the inside of my fingers and moved my fingers up and down the top and underside of his head. He said “no, do it like this”, grabbed my hand, cupped it firmly around my shaft and began to stroke my hand up and down his head and shaft with a steady motion. I did this for a while and leaned in closer to him.

He said, "Do you want to kiss me" and I said I'd rather not. I realized through all of this that there was still a part of me that felt this was wrong. After all these years I still was not comfortable with being gay and acting on it.

I felt weird saying no to him so I, instead, leaned to his chest and kissed his right nipple. It was large and erect. His nipple always were sensitive I learned from many night of rubbing them in my fingers and exploring them fully. I licked his nipple and put it in my wet mouth. I open my mouth kissed it and I heard him gasp and raise his chest fully. I sucked and flicked it with my tongue. I moved away from him and touched the same nipple with my finger. I rubbed it back across it, now that his nipple was wet from my mouth. He exhaled slowly. And I didn't know what to do next.

He asked if I wanted to sit on his lap facing him. Not knowing what else to do I did it and began to stroke his cock again. I was now straddling his lap facing him rubbing his cock with my hand, my shirts open. He grabbed my hand that was stroking him with his hand again and began to control my motions. His cock got bigger in my hand as I stroked it up and down all the way from the base of his crotch to the tip of his dick. My other hand roamed around his chest. I loved to feel it years ago and I loved it now. He chest was bigger the muscles clearer to the feel. He must have shaved his chest because there were not even the fine hairs from before. I splayed my hand across his pecs my thumb on one nipple the tip of my finger on the other nipple, loving the feel of their hardness on his smooth chest. I rubbed my hand up and down his chest. I stroked his neck and glided my fingers down over his round pecs to the top of his abs, down the middle of the row of them, over and naval and across his hard lower abdomen, finally to his pubic hair.

He kept moving my hand over his penis and I closed my eyes trying to think of something to get me turned on and into what was happening. Eventually my mind wondered and then was back on the mindful present of trying to get him off. His eyes were closed and I looked at his chest again trying to get more aroused. Finally he hips jerked and he came. His flow was thick and coated his shaft and my hand. I then got off his lap and into the kitchen. I washed my hands and zipped and buttoned my shorts again. He walked into the kitchen with his shirt in his hand and his pants done up as well. He out his shirt on and said that it didn't go well.

I said yeah but didn't know what else to say. He said that he was glad we did this because now we know what would happen. I assumed he meant we now know what would happen if we tried to get together. I went back into the living room and put my tank back on and we made small talk again out the door and to his car. He took off and I haven't seen him since.

The years of first touching each other’s backs and chest, to my first ejaculation, and finally to his own awkward release if odd to think about. I am more comfortable now with whom I am and have come out to a lot of people. I know what turns me on too. I wonder if he is "gay", I heard he had a steady girlfriend for a while then I heard he was in prison. These moments were pivotal to me, probably in negative ways. I wonder “what if” a lot about Dennis, but realize that as I have moved on all ready, I have moved on again. This time, not with Dennis, only with the memory of him and how much I let him and these experiences affect my life.

Thankfully I have moved on and continue to grow.