Gay Erotic Stories

I've read and re-read my entry from yesterday.  I wish human beings could be simple.  All these emotions and desires complicate life!  I love Jim so much, and I miss him painfully.  But I am scared!  I want to run to him, plead for his forgiveness, and express my love for him.  Then almost immediately I think of his sweet ass, him begging for my cock and my cum.  I think of him groveling at my feet to be used and abused.  I am crying now, but I am also hard as a rock.  I am longing for his lips, his eyes, his arms, and his voice even as I grind my dick into the bed imagining I'm pillaging the soft, round hills of his ass.  I am horrified by what I did to Jim on Monday night but also incredibly aroused. I need some air.  I'm gonna go for a run into town.

Addendum:  I went into the post office after my run.  Gary the clerk asked if I had any news about Jim.  Gary had left a voicemail for Jim on Tuesday morning informing him that a package was available to be picked up.  Gary is a fan of Jim's and is sometimes the lucky recipient of free galley copies of Jim's latest novels.  Jim has been very prompt to pick up his packages in the past.  As of this afternoon, Jim hasn't come by the post office.  The post office isn't open on Saturday's anymore, so the package will have to wait till next week.

My first reaction was to rush to Jim's cabin, fearing the worst, but as I ran back to the house I lost my nerve.  What if he hates me?  The thought hit me hard in the guts.  I doubled over against a tree and vomited.  I couldn't run after that.  I couldn't muster up the courage to go check on Jim.

Journal Entry 6/14

I have to go.  I must know that he is ok.  Fuck my nerves!  If he hates me, so be it.  I deserve it.  His well-being is the important thing right now.  I must go!

Journal 6/15

It was too quiet on the hill.  I stood outside his cabin, mustering up the courage to knock on his door.  The quiet unnerved me.  I never paid much attention to the sounds before, but now their absence was like a siren, portending bad news.  I climbed the stairs to the door and cocked my ear against it.  I hoped to hear Jim's heavy foot steps, music from his mp3, chatter from his TV, something, anything.  Only silence.

I knocked.  No response.  I knocked harder.  Still nothing.  "Oh, God!"

I turned the handle -- Jim never locked his doors -- and stepped gingerly in, fearing what I would find.  Everything looked neat and clean, as usual.  I tiptoed past the stairs and then the bathroom on my left.  I was scared to enter the kitchen and dining room.  Standing there in the hall, I could hear nothing but the motor of the refrigerator.  Maybe he's outside walking, I thought with great hope.

I stepped into the dining room and froze.  Jim was curled up in a fetal position, completely naked on the floor, on the very spot I had left him.  The afghan was bunched up off in the corner.  His right hand pressed my shorts and underwear against his chest.  His left hand gripped the towel I had placed between his legs to catch my cum dripping from his ass.  He had his face buried in the towel.  His chest moved slightly.

He couldn't have been lying on the floor all week.  The table had been cleared and the dishes washed.  There was no sign of human waste, neither on Jim nor the floor.  Even the cum stain had been washed.  I could see, though, that he wasn't well.  His skin was pale, the luster diminished.  He looked smaller as well, as though he had lost a few pounds.  His breathing was shallow according to his barely moving chest.  The towel muffled the sounds of his breathing.

"Jim?" I called.  "Can you hear me, Jim?"  He did not respond to me.  He's sleeping, I thought.

I sat down beside him and felt his forehead.  It was lukewarm.  I laid two fingers against his wrist.  The pulse was weak, beats far apart.  His skin felt cool.  I pulled his hand away from his face and it fell limply to the floor, his fingers losing their hold on the towel.  It looked like the towel had been shredded in places by strong teeth.  It was moist with saliva.  Next to his face was my note. 

I stroked his face, whispering, "Jim, your master is here.  Wake up, Jim."  I had never felt such tenderness for anyone in my life.  "Open your eyes for master.  I want to see your green eyes."  I stroked and encouraged, but Jim didn't respond.  What to do?

I grabbed the afghan and wrapped it over him.  I ran up to his bedroom and brought down a fleece blanket to cover him and a pillow for his head.  I soaked a clean towel in hot water and draped it over his forehead.  The kitchen was too clean.  The refrigerator and pantry were too full.  He usually goes to the grocery store on Saturday mornings to stock up for the following week.  I emptied a can of chicken noodle soup, his favorite, into a pot on the range.  I poured extra water into the soup to dilute it somewhat and make it soupier.  I had no idea how long he has gone without food.  I left the heat on low and returned to Jim's side.

"Jim, I'm heating some soup for you.  I need you to get up so you can eat...come on." Why isn't he responding, I thought.  I shook him and roughly tapped his cheek.  I became desperate.  It was as though he was in shock from a traumatic experience, as though his mind had gone off to another place, separated from his body.

I leaned down and spoke firmly into his ear, "Jim, hear my voice.  Come back, Jim.  Come back to master.  Your master commands you.  If you do not obey, I will become very upset.  Do you hear me, slave?"

Just then, his eyelids started to part.  His lips split open and a dry exhalation croaked, "mmaa...."  I began to cry with relief.  I had been so scared!  "Yes, yes, your master is here.  Come back, come back, baby," I cooed as I stroked his cheek.  "Master is very sorry for hurting you.  Come on, baby, wake up and make master feel better.  Ok, baby?  Wake up, baby."

Jim's eyes opened so painfully slow.  Every millimeter took a second it seemed.  I gently wiped off some of the dried tears around his eyes.  Finally, I could see the green irises.  I planted soft kisses on his parched lips, stared into his eyes and whispered in a rush, "I love you, baby.  I am so sorry for the awful things I did and said on Monday.  You were so good.  You made master a wonderful meal and you were unbelievably obedient.  And I ruined it all by being such a demon.  You will forgive master, won't you?  Yes?"

He was so weak!  He could only get his eyes half open.  His dry mouth could only utter "mmaaa."  Whatever moisture had been in his mouth was soaked up by the towel.

"Shh.  Be quiet, baby.  Don't try to talk.  I'll be right back with some soup."  Lifting his head, I slid my left thigh under and laid his head back down, pushing on his shoulder to get him to lay on his back.  For the next several minutes, I fed him the warm soup, first only the broth and then the rest.  With each spoonful he swallowed, I praised him, saying, "Such a good slave.  Master is very pleased.  Good, yes, baby, eat the soup.  Good, baby."

Towards the end, he would open up his mouth eagerly for the next spoonful.  He would stare up at me adoringly, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks.  He'd lick his dry lips after each swallow and then open his mouth.  "Good, baby," I'd coo.  Jim would purr as I say this.

When I told him how pleased I was that he had eaten all the soup, his whole face lit up with a smile.  The luster in his skin was returning.  I rubbed his head with my left hand and stroked his cheek with my right.  "Just rest, baby, until your strength returns."  He curled up again in a fetal position, more loosely than before, turning his face toward my crotch.  He purred, mewled, and moaned as his stared at my package.

"You want master's cock, baby?"  He tried to turn his face up to reply but I held his head in place and said, "Shh!  I know what my baby wants."  I unzipped my shorts and freed my cock.  We both watched as it expanded, the bulbous head breaking free from the foreskin.  Jim was panting, mouth gaping, tongue stretched out, straining.  He moaned miserably, unable to reach my cock.  He could have easily moved his head closer, but he dared not act without my instructions.

Mercifully, I angled my hard cock toward his mouth.  His tongue licked my cock in quick flurries as soon as it got within range.  And then it was in his mouth.  We both moaned.  He didn't suck on it desperately.  He made love to it, he worshiped it.  He purred happily as he serviced me.  I gave the back of his head a gentle nudge, giving him permission to move his head closer.  He took my entire length till I could feel his throat massaging the head, gurgling.

"Oh, baby.  That feels good, baby.  You're making master very happy.  Worship my dick, baby."  Urges to fuck his throat tempted him, but I resolved to be gentle.  So I leaned back on my supporting arms and let Jim continue massaging my cock with his throat and tongue.  His eyelids were fluttering in ecstasy, panting heavily through his nostrils.  His purr had become a guttural rumbling, making his entire mouth a vibrator.

"I'm gonna cum for you, baby.  It's all for you.  I'm gonna show you how much you have pleased me."  I threw my head back and cried out.  It felt as though something massive was trying to force its way through my penis.  I willed it out.  I would give it all to my baby, I thought.  My diaphragm pumped like billows, my right leg thrashed while the toes of my left foot curled.  My cock throbbed, the muscles pushing the semen through an urethra that seemed too narrow to accommodate such a large volume.  I banged my head about as my cum erupted out of me, the cum swallowed away by Jim's diligent throat.  The eruptions continued for what seemed like minutes.

My cock was so sensitive after the orgasm, but I let Jim continue suckling.  He deserved this reward,  I felt.  Some gasping and moaning on my part was a very small price.  I slouched and cradled Jim's face with my hands.  "I love you, baby.  Shh, just keep sucking, baby."

I wanted to let him suckle as long as he wanted.  After several minutes though, I became aware of the pressure of my bladder.  I ignored it, thinking Jim would finish long before I really had to pee.  Almost an hour later, Jim was still suckling away, and I was very uncomfortable.

"I have to pee, baby.  I'll let you keep sucking afterwards, ok?"

Jim whimpered, not wanting to stop.  "If you don't stop, baby, you'll be drinking something very different from cum."  At this, his throat and mouth picked up pace.

"Baby, master's not gonna cum.  If you don't stop, I won't be able to hold back."

Jim was moaning now, mixed with a few whimpers.  He was like a baby suckling on his mother's tit.  "Jim, listen to your master.  It's not cum or milk you're gonna get.  Do you understand?  Piss doesn't taste good."  I could have easily commanded him to stop, but, again, I knew what he wanted.

"You want master's piss, baby?"  Jim nodded his head as he sucked.  "Ok, then."

Cradling his face lovingly, I let my piss flow slowly.  Jim held his throat and mouth still for a second, letting my piss partially fill his mouth.  With a moan and wriggle of his feet, he began swallowing, his gulping throat begging for more.  I let my pee flow stronger,  yielding to my baby's desires.  He was moaning and whimpering through his nose, his feet wriggling against each other.

This turned me on and my dick grew harder in his mouth.  It had softened a little after the orgasm.  "You're turning master on, baby.  Drink my piss, baby, and I'll reward you with another load of cum."  Jim swallowed desperately.  I accommodated by letting my pee pour freely.  His moans and whimpers grew loud.  "Make your dick hard, baby.  Show me how much you love your master's cock, piss and cum."  His cock plastered itself against his abs, past his belly button.  The slit opened and copious amounts of clear liquid flowed down his abs unto the floor.  I twisted a hand around the purple bulb, drenching it in Jim's precum.  I licked his precum off my hand.

A minute after the last drops of piss disappeared down his gullet, I shot out my second load.  Jim was in  heaven.  He thrashed out his legs.  He gurgled my semen, his throat driving me insane.  He gurgled my semen joyfully, swallowing only when it threatened to slip through his orifice.  I cried out louder than before, my essence flowing out.

This time, I had to stop him.  My dick was way too sensitive.  His green eyes gazed up at me as though I were a god come down from the heavens to rescue him from his miserable state.  I placed my finger against his lips when he parted them to speak.  "Keep quiet, baby."

I helped him up the stairs to his bed, getting him comfortably situated on his back.  I leaned down and sucked on his fully erect cock.  I can't suck on him too long when he's fully hard.  My jaw gets too sore.  After a couple of minutes, I ordered him to shoot a good load, C.   I ate his cum.  It was thin and bland, not his usual rich, salty, and creamy load.  I kissed his lips tenderly and whispered, "Sleep, my baby."  He fell asleep immediately.