Gay Erotic Stories

For five years, Tim had lived next door to me. He was on the road a lot but I would see him nearly every weekend when he was working on the lawn, mowing in the summertime, raking in the autumn, etc. He obviously enjoyed his back yard, and loved walking around it (usually shirtless when weather permitted) just “talking with the weeds” as he described it. He was well built, with a very furry chest that covered some muscular perky pecs on his wide shouldered frame. Tim had the genetic predisposition to always have that great looking hunk of a Hercules-like body while the rest of us mere humans have to jog, and do crunches, and diet, and try to look like Tim, who did nothing at all to look as fantastic as he did. Tim was divorced but his ex-wife was often around anyway from time-to-time for overnight stays. And to add to that, he always seemed to have a live-in “dolly du jour” that shared his bed and did the light housekeeping for him. The dolly changed pretty often, and it seemed pointless to try to remember their names, even though Tim would refer to them by name when he talked about them with me. “Nikki…now let me see, was she the one with the big tits?” Tim would just laugh, and would correct me, “Naw, Nikki was the one with the big ears! Alexis was the one with the big tits!” My wife and many of her gal friends openly ogled Tim. He was handsome, and his rakish behavior just made him more attractive to the women. I tried to disguise my own ogling but sometimes I found myself shamelessly staring at his shirtless frame, strolling around the yard. I had not been physical with a male since sometime way back in college, but I did think about it sometimes when I felt my loins stirring when I looked at him! Every man has his limit as to when sex with another male is acceptable, and Tim was my limit. If I were ever going to do it with a guy, it would be with Tim. If I were ever going to do it! When he would saunter up to me to have a chat in the back yard, I think my dick always did a few twitches (involuntary ones, of course!) since I would have been mortified to have him think that I was aroused by his masculine presence. He had this good/bad goofy habit of sort of polishing his balls when we talked, sort of cupping his equipment and shifting it around from one side of his pants leg to the other leg. I loved to watch him do it, and he did seem to notice my intense interest of his sexy habit but he never said a word. He was laid back and cool, with a great sense of humor. He was fun. He would refer to his current live-in as his “current squeeze”. He seemed intent upon avoiding a long-term relationship with any of them. I kidded him about having his ex come around while he had a squeeze in tow, and he just laughed and asked me if I would object to having two women in bed, with the clear implication that his ex would (or had) join in. Whether all that happened or not just added to the Tim Sexual Mystique. I had Tim in my jerk-off fantasies, but fantasies are just that, aren’t they? But the fantasy turned to reality one hot stormy summer night. Here in the Midwest, storms can come up in the middle of the night, with thunder and lightning and high winds. My wife and I were awakened by one of these night storms, well after midnight. She is one of the world’s most dedicated sleepers, and she was very groggy, as she seemed to be only distantly aware of the impending storm. She nudged me to make sure there was nothing on the patio that would blow away. Then she turned over and went right back to sleep, a somewhat deeper sleep than the Great Sphinx. I was now wide-awake and knew that I needed to make the trip downstairs to the patio to secure the umbrella and the toys and whatever else we had left outside. The electricity went out on my way downstairs. However, it was easy to see what was happening through the lightning flashes. A great gust of wind swept up the umbrella and sent it cartwheeling across the yard, along with the plastic lawn chairs and some other bits and pieces that were blowing about like tumbleweed in a western movie. The BBQ grill fell over, and made a loud clattering as it made contact with the concrete. Objects were being tossed all around the yard and I tore after them, getting absolutely soaked in the downpour. I had made several forays into the yard, retrieving items and hauling them back, before I became aware that Tim was doing the same thing next door. When I finished, I went to help him, and we both ended up on his patio with the last of the stray objects, out of breath. We were both shirtless and we were both drenched with wet hair and wet shorts. It was only then that I noticed that Tim’s shorts were his jockey underwear briefs. I also was wearing jockey shorts but they were under my jogging shorts, which was of the sort of flimsy material that was clinging like paper to my soaked skin. Tim said that he thought we had earned ourselves a beer. I protested that I needed to go back to bed, but he was not listening to me. Just at that moment, a new downpour hit with a vengeance, and we ducked inside with a loud clap of thunder and more streaks of lightning. With cold beers in hand, we both continued to admire the electric storm outside. It was pleasant just to be sharing space with this handsome hunk, particularly in wet underwear! I was enjoying his occasional comment after a particularly spectacular lightning bolt, or rumble of thunder. Like he was judging a show of some sort. Tim was leaning against the patio door glass window, and each time the lightning flashed, he was outlined. His outline was further enhanced by his evident maleness, and my eyes were riveted to the bulge in the front of his wet jockeys. Even with cold wet shorts, my dick was heating up! As though he had just read my thoughts, Tim slipped his shorts off with the comment that the wet jockeys were making him think he had wet his pants. He mumbled an apology for not being more hospitable as he trotted off to get towels for us. I did not know how much of this I could handle, with Tim totally naked in the same room! He returned with towels, and handed one to me. I slipped my wet shorts off, relieved for the lack of lights and electricity. My cock had firmed up nicely. I would have been embarrassed to have him know that he was turning me on. I wrapped the towel around me and cinched it. Tim had used his towel to dry himself off, and had tossed it aside; he was naked. That was far too tempting for me to ignore, and I was determined to get a good look at his equipment to see if he were hung as much as I imagined him to be. I moved to stand next to him at the patio door, hoping that a good lightning flash would permit me to see his cock. Damn, I was horny for just a peek! We were standing close together when very casually and very naturally, Tim put his arm out and draped it around my shoulder. Any hopes that I might have had of keeping my boner hidden from his view disappeared with that action, since my dick virtually sprang up and out of the towel. (The towel was becoming uncinched anyway, and I could feel that it was going to drop off but I was not about to unlatch myself from Tim’s friendly embrace.) The towel did fall. Tim had to feel it as it fell to the floor and around our feet, but he said nothing. Neither of us was saying much other than some grunts and wows! when the storm would do something spectacular. Then Tim’s arm dropped from my shoulder to my waist, and he sort of hugged me in tighter against him. My dick was so hard that I think that I would have broken the glass if I had been closer to the window! Then just as casually as he had moved from the shoulder to the waist, his hand moved to the small of my back, lingering for only a moment before moving on to the cheeks of my ass. He was rubbing my ass, rubbing slowly, in wide circles. I was not objecting to anything, which obviously was a signal for him to proceed. He removed his hand from my butt, and faced me in the darkness. Using both hands, he placed his left hand under my balls while he tenderly stroked the shaft of my throbbing prick in his right hand. I reached for his cock, but he moved away from my reach, and just kept on playing with me. He leaned over and put his lips on my nipple, and sucked lightly, then went to the other one. His hot tongue started a trail downward along the line of hair that leads from my chest to my pubic region. He wet every hair on the trail as he traveled. With a slurping sound, he engulfed my cock and held it in his mouth, humming little moans of approval for what he was tasting. And then he started to suck. To the brink and back, so many times, before I whispered to him that I was ready. He took his mouth away and whispered back to me, “I know, let me have it.” I let him have it just as the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, and it seemed that all of the earth had moved at that moment of wild release! I was able to see that he was pumping himself to the completion of a blasting release, just as he was finishing licking off my last droplets of fluid. At the next moment, the electricity returned. The scene that was so hot and erotic just moments before in the dark, now seemed to be less so in the glare of the lights. Tim looked up at me, with sort of a sheepish look, and said, “Forgive me, I only get this horny during thunderstorms!” I know that he chuckled when I said that I was certainly glad that we did not live in the desert… We are still neighbors, and Tim still has his “dolly du jour”. We kind of have it worked out so that we get together every now and then, whether there is a thunderstorm or not. (The signal seems to revolve around his habit of shifting his balls when he talks to me.) And I will always remember that first stormy night when we became really “good neighbors.” If you like this, I would like to have feedback to nc252grn@aol.com