Gay Erotic Stories

Instead of a fairly sedate trot on our separate horses, Andy’s original idea was that we should ride back stark naked on a single animal with him seated behind me and his formidable cock jammed up my ass for the entire journey. He planned to remove the saddle from his horse and stow it on my mount while he would cover his animal’s back with the blanket we’d been lying on. Then we’d canter back, more or less bareback, and each time the horse’s rear hooves pounded the ground, the thump would slam his delicious meatloaf deeper and deeper into my hole.

It sounded truly wild and, in the fast fading light, I could just see Andy licking his lips while explaining it all to me. But the fact that it was now almost completely dark – with only the stars and a silver sliver of moon in the sky to light our way – made me wary of being too experimental.

“Another time, my big handsome boy,” I told him. “I really don’t want to go ass over elbow out here in the darkness – not while we are both stark naked.”

“Suit yerself, Honey Bum,” he said – adding yet another name to the growing list of my noms des guerres. “But I’ll keep you to that. I reckon it’d be shit-hot rooting you up the date while we’re out riding. I reckon I’d get so far up you I’d come out yer mouth.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” I replied, as we clambered onto our horses and set out for the station homestead.

To tell the truth, I was getting increasingly concerned about what Frank and his two other boys were going to say and do when we turned up out of the darkness. But I figured Andrew wasn’t going to let them give me a hard time; not unless I’d misread this entire evening’s performance.

Andy was humming to himself as we drew closer to the house and I could see that Frank and the two boys were standing on the edge of the back veranda, looking in our direction.

“I can see ‘em now,” came the faint sound of Angus’ voice.

“Do they look like they’ve been shagging?” came Frank’s equally faint reply.

“Fuck, Dad, my bloody eyes aren’t that good,” said his second son.

When we finally reached the back steps to the house, Frank was smiling the dirtiest smile I’d ever seen while Angus was scowling at his elder brother and Adam was scowling at me.

“Well, well, well,” says Frank. “Home are the conquering heroes.”

“More like cock-sucking heroes,” growls Angus. “Yeah, more like cock-sucking heroes,” chimes in Adam, trying not to be left out of whatever was happening.

“Ah, go stick ya heads up a dead bear’s bum,” calls out Andrew as he climbs down from his horse.

“What about a dead Yank’s bum,” chants Angus, prompting Adam to come out with: “Yeah, what about a dead Yank’s . . .” But Andrew cuts him off.

“Grow up Adam, will ya?” he jeers. “Or, if you can’t grow up, learn a little originality. And as for you, Angus, if you’d keep your hand off your bloody tool for five minutes, maybe you wouldn’t be so jealous of me – and anyone else who looks like they’re having a good time while your sitting on the dunny pulling your pud 24 hours a day.”

“Oi,” yells Frank, “you buggers cut it out this instant, you hear?”

Andrew has come around to the side of my horse and reaches up to lift me down.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” I say brightly. “I believe I can make it to the ground in one piece all by myself.”

“No you can’t,” says Andy. “I won’t let you. You only have to do one thing from now on and that’s let me take care of you and love you. OK?”

“Oh, and how about fuck you too,” sneers Angus, but Andy ignores him. Even a blind man could see that there is a head of steam building up inside this family and, if it blows, it could get really ugly. I figure I am better off staying in the saddle for the time being. Frank is clearly worried about what is happening because he comes directly across to where Andy is standing by my horse and grabs his eldest son by the upper arm.

“Andrew, don’t do this,” he says. “Don’t piss your brothers off. And don’t piss me off along with them. Our mate Victor is only going to be here for a week and you bastards are going to have to live with each other for a lotta years yet. So knock off the agro and stop rubbing your brothers’ noses in your own shit.”

Andy looks down at his Father’s hand on his bicep, quietly wraps his fingers around Frank’s wrist and removes his grasp. Then he places both his own hands on his Father’s shoulders and looks him straight in the eyes.

“Listen Dad and listen good,” he says. “My little man Vic isn’t going anywhere and, if he is, I’m going with him. I’ve been waiting for 20 years for a miracle like this to happen to me and if you think I’m prepared to let it slip through my fingers you are a very mistaken, miserable old bastard. Now, am I making myself clear or what?”

“Yeah,” says Frank, “you’re makin’ yourself very damn clear. So that’s it, is it son? Fuck your Father and fuck your brothers and fuck everything we’ve been working to achieve on this property – Andrew’s found himself a cheap thrill up the date of some American fairy and, as far as he’s concerned, that’s the end of it. Anything for a root, eh, Andy?”

Andy releases his hands from Frank’s shoulders and grabs hold of the front of the old man’s shirt instead, pulling him forward, right into his face.

“Don’t talk to me about anything for a root, you filthy old cunt,” he roars. “When I think of all those years you used to jam your nasty old cock up my arse wherever you felt like it, I could spit tacks. Whatever chance I ever had at growing up to be a normal man with normal desires were fucked out of me by you and that filthy old cock of yours. So now I’ve accepted myself for what I am – bent as a bit of fencing wire – but I’ve discovered that it isn’t the end of the world. I’ve discovered a little man who makes me proud to be who I am and who loves me for what I am.

“So you, you filthy old sod,” and Andrew pushes his father away, “you just go on buggering ‘Gus and Addy and turning them into a couple of pathetic pervs, but you’re not gonna fuck up the rest of my life. No you fuckin’ well are not.”

This is out of hand and altogether too much for me. I know than Andy is right to rage against the abuse he suffered from his Father – but I also know that Frank is right too. I am not going to be here for more than a week. Much as I am completely enthralled by Andy and his monster cock, I know I have to go back to, what for me is, normality. And I know just as surely that it would be a mistake for Andy to come with me. This straight talking, fiercely loving, mountain of maleness would die away from the heat and light and loneliness of his Outback home. Having reached the heights of ecstasy in his arms less than an hour ago, I am now down in the depths of despair.

Andy is standing beside my horse with his arms raised again to lift me down. I bow to the inevitable and let him take me in his hands. Its as if I was made of paper, he handles me so effortlessly. Oh why, oh why, oh why couldn’t this have all been as perfect as it should have been, I’m thinking to myself and tears begin to well in my eyes.

Andy looks stricken when he sees the tears and he grasps me to his chest, bending his head and gently kissing my eyelids and wiping away the tears with his lips.

“My little Vic,” he whispers. “My perfect little man. I love you so much I could die for you.”

I am aware that the cheekiness has evaporated from Angus and Adam. They are standing with their father at the top of the veranda stairs looking as if they had been stabbed in their hearts. Frank simply looks deflated as if all his fight had flown away with his last breath.

Andy takes me by the hand and leads my past them into the house. We don’t turn off the passageway into the Mother’s room but enter the room next door instead, which turns out to be Andrew’s private domain.

“Here you are my little darling man,” says Andy in his softest voice. “This is where we live.”

It is as if he has waved a magic wand over me and made all my fears and doubts disappear.

“Oh Andy, you goddamn wonder, you beautiful male,” I gasp, as he strokes and caresses me. “I am beginning to wonder if I’m really asleep and dreaming all this because nothing like this has ever happened to me before – and is never likely to again, either.”

Andy chuckles. “You got that right, my lovely little man,” he says. “From now on you are private territory and I’m the only one with exploration rights. That clear?”

“Its clear, its clear,” I tell him and he plunges his lips onto mine and thrusts that strong, pink tongue deep into my mouth and into my soul.

When we eventually pull apart, Andy announces he is going out to bring “Dodgy” inside.

“Who or what is Dodgy?” I ask him.

“Me dog,” he says, flashing me the biggest smile.

“And what sort of a name is Dodgy?” I want to know.

“I called him that because he is a bit dodgy . . . a bit off, you know?” Andy tells me.

“I don’t think I know that word,” I tell him.

“Well, you say it when you want to describe some food that might not be safe to eat or when someone does something that’s a bit too close to the edge of the Law or when someone shows you some porno that’s a bit kinky. We reckon its ‘dodgy’.”

“And your dog is dodgy?”

“Yeah, I first of all called him Roger because he had a big red dick, but when he started doing weird things like licking my cock and balls and sticking his nose into my bum, I changed it to Dodgy.”

“Good grief,” I say with some emotion, “why on earth did you teach him to do that sort of thing.”

“Oh, I didn’t teach him – he started doing it all by himself. Of course, its possible he might have seen ‘Gus and Addy sucking and rimming each other and – because the poor bloody dog thinks he’s human – decided to have a go at it himself. But he didn’t get it from me. Anyway, now he’s developed a taste for guys’ dongers and their shitholes.”

“This family is something else, you know? Even the goddamn animals,” I tell my Andy.

“You got that right, that’s for sure,” he laughs back.

There’s a knock on the door – no, make that a few heavy thumps – and Frank’s voice penetrates the thick slab of solid wood.

“You two coming out for tea – or are you happy eating each other?” he wants to know.

“Yeah, we’re coming out,” calls back Andy. He turns, kisses me lightly on the lips, pulls the collar of my blouson back into shape, pats me happily on the ass and opens the door. Frank is standing right in the doorway and the two younger boys are up against the wall on the far side of the corridor, their eyes full of interest as they scan Andy and me up and down to see if they can detect any telltale signs of ‘dodgy behaviour’.

“What’s for tea anyway?” he asks Frank.

“Snags,” says Frank. “Snags and mash and fried onions and peas and tomahtee sauce. Will that be alright with you gentlemen?”

“Sausages,” Andy translates, without being asked. “Pork sausages. Is that OK?” It looks to me as if it has suddenly dawned on Andy that I might be Jewish, what with being American and, as he is intimately aware, circumcised.

“That’s cool, Andy,” I reassure him. And we form a procession into dinner in the eating area of the big room at the back of the house.

At the table it is like nothing bad had happened. Angus is happily arguing with Andy about something to do with “drenching” the farm animals [which I hope and trust has absolutely nothing to do with gay water sports] and Adam is smiling privately to himself as he tries to surreptitiously move his legs around under the table, trying to make physical contact with me, I suppose. When he expressive face indicates he is searching to his right, I make sure my legs are pointing away to his left. It’s weird, but it’s fun.

“So tell me Vic,” chimes in Frank. “Will you be with Andrew tomorrow when he goes boundary riding? Once in a while we check the fences and tomorrow’s the day we start doing it. Or would you like to do a bit of – your know – roustabouting here at the house?”

I look at Andy who tells his Father – his face as straight as the bottom of a frypan – that he has already made plans with me to go riding tomorrow, but that we’ll probably only need one horse.

“Don’t talk rot,” says Frank. “Two bloody grown men can’t ride one horse doing boundary riding. Do it properly or don’t do it at all.”

I notice Angus and Adam are giving each other the fisheye so I figure Andrew’s horseback fantasy is not new and has even been discussed among the brothers at some time in the past.

“We can go along too,” says Adam happily. “If you find you only need one horse, I can take care of the other one.” “And I can hold the coats,” adds Angus.

Andy bursts into peals of laughter. It is clear the storm that threatened half an hour ago has passed.

“Sure, sure,” he tells the boys. “You come along too. Maybe you can show my man Vic a few of the local attractions.”

“What attractions?” Frank demands to know.

“Oh, my brothers know what attractions,” smirks Andy.

“And since when did Vic become ‘your man’?” his Father insists.

“Since I was born, Dad. Since I was born. That do you?”

The dinner – a triumph of cholesterol over dietary common sense – progresses smoothly to its conclusion over canned peaches and ice cream. There is an immediate move to get to bed as quickly as possible among all the family members, who disperse to their appointed rooms. I tag along meekly behind Andy. When we close the corridor door behind us, I ask Andy straight out why he is allowing the boys to come along.

“Oh, they’re harmless, my lovely little Vic,” he says. “But they do have a kind of gymnastic act they do in the nuddy [nude] that you might enjoy. Might turn you on a bit.”

“Andy,” I say, “I don’t need to be turned on any more than I am. If I was any more turned on I’d fry.”

Andy laughs his hearty big warm-as-toast laugh and pulls me into a bear-hug.

“Jeez I love you Vic,” he says softly. “Just cut the boys a little slack . . . pretend you like what they do for you and they’ll be your devoted slaves forever. And they won’t cause you any agro, either.”

Despite my lingering doubts, I agree with Andy that this sounds like a sensible plan. He reaches behind me and squeezes my butt cheeks to seal the deal.

And so to bed.

I was still having difficulty believing that Andy’s spectacular body was mine to do what I liked with. But, alone at last in a comfortable, double bed – instead of being pounded into the ground on some stony hilltop – I was revelling in a much more comfortable exploration of his sculptured chest, those swollen, rock hard abdominals, the round, rugged hills and vales of his upper arms, the dark, moist canyons of his arm-pits and groin and the spectacularly moulded eminences of his buttocks.

Maybe best of all, I was in heaven as I kissed and nibbled at every square inch of his handsome face.

“You like doing this, don’t ya my lovely little man?” Andy purred into my ear.

“I love it,” I said in a voice that seemed have climbed up from my toes. “I want to keep on exploring you forever.”

“Not forever, little love,” he says. “There are times when I’ll have to do a bit of exploring around your sweet little body. Like . . . right now!” And he grabs hold of my buns, stretches them apart and thrusts one of those massive, country-boy fingers deep into my hole.

“Oooooo, that feels good,” he murmurs. “Mr Finger likes to look inside your bum-hole, you sweet fella. But, the trouble is, he’s making Mr Trouser Snake real jealous because Mr Trouser Snake says he’s got a bucket of hot, white spoof that he has to deliver about two foot up your beautiful twat. Waddaya think, my darling man? You ready for a special delivery?”

“Try me!” I tell Andy. “Try you?” he asks, laughing a little incredulously. “Try you?? By Christ I’m gonna do better than ‘try you’ sweet man. I’m gonna fuck the living shit outa you and then I’m coming back for desert. And a cheese course. And coffee. And then I’ll be back for fuckin’ breakfast and lunch and tea and any other meal I can think of. And then I’m gonna take you out and have you surgically stitched onto my cock so I can fuck you 24 hours a day, seven days a week, forever and ever Amen. Ya get the picture?”

“Yes,” I laugh happily at him. “I get the picture. But my asshole is sending me a message asking when you’re going to stop talking about it and start doing it.”

“Right now, you bloody little sex maniac,” Andy yelps and he leaps onto me, hoisting my legs in the air with a single, powerful lunge and in moments has ploughed his huge cock up to the hilt in my asshole. The pain shoots through me like I’ve had an electric cattle prod stuck in my hole – and I love every excruciating moment of it.

“Ball me, you crazy fucker,” I yell at him. “Don’t ever stop fucking me, you hear?”

“I hear, I hear,” says Andy in this growling little voice. “Right now its time for you do something – to get ready to have your bloody guts painted white from the inside, OK? Oh fuck, I’m comin’, I’m comin.” And with one last mighty thrust he rams his monster meat deep into my bowels.

Later, when we’re both lying across each other, exhausted, covered in sweat, smelling of semen and incapable of letting go of the lover in our arms, it occurs to me to wonder what on earth will happen tomorrow on our ride around the station boundaries.

Better I don’t know, I decide. I’ll be finding out soon enough.