Gay Erotic Stories

Goddamn rental car! I knew it didn’t sound right when I pulled out of the airport parking lot! But I thought it’s German, maybe they all whine like that when they change gears. All I knew is that it was a convertible and a ride across the state on a day like today required just such a car. I entered the Interstate and headed north. As I left the Metro area, the road became narrower, going from a six-lane expressway to four, finally changing to a two-lane blacktop. I needed to pass the inevitable pokey drivers as I sped to my destination, the Ski resort my sister and brother-in-law owned in the mountains northwest of here. The Mercedes made that same metallic whir every time I gunned the engine to pass. It didn’t sound right to me, but what do I know about cars?

I came to a climb in the road, a twisty bend that shot up the side of a mountain and across into the next valley. The on-board navigation screen showed that I had about 120 miles to my destination, and based on the gas consumption so far, I would make it without having to stop to re-fuel. Not bad mileage for such a powerful car. I hadn’t seen another car on the road for miles. There were no houses out here, most of this land is owned by Fisher Paper Mills. Nothing but huge forests of trees extending to the horizon, destined to become newsprint. The last building I passed was a rest stop and picnic grounds about 30 miles back. I saw a direction sign for the mill at the last crossroad. It was about 10 miles to the east.

You have probably already guessed what happened next. The car whined up the hill, rounding the bend near the summit and I saw the valley in front of me with trees stretching for miles in all directions. I saw the stacks of the mill to the right on the other side of the incredibly immense green landscape. The car started to ping at me, and a warning light came on in the instrument cluster. The whine was now constant, not just when changing gears. Suddenly the road began to wind down the other side of the mountain, switching back on itself to make the decline less precipitous. The air vents suddenly smelled like burning plastic. The engine was on fire! Like most cars, if the engine dies, the power system goes out. On a steep hill, that’s the last thing you want to happen. The car choked and sputtered. The brakes were still operating and the steering responded but without the power assist, the Mercedes felt more like a Mack.

I didn’t expect the abrupt change in handling, and started to veer wildly towards the side of the road. I saw a dirt drive jutting off the main road to the left, so I threw my weight into the wheel and aimed for the opening in the guardrail. The car shot across the road and flew down the dusty path into the woods. I scraped along at about 50 mph for several hundred yards, brush and tree limbs tearing at the polished black sheet metal, throwing debris and dirt into the open car. The choking dust blinded me, trying desperately to control the heavy convertible. The car peeled off into a patch of scrub pines and continued through a small meadow to a rocky embankment. I was suddenly airborne as the car sailed over the edge and came crashing down into a creek.

I don’t know how long I was out, but the sun was throwing long shadows across the car when I finally opened my eyes and began to re-orient my senses. I looked at myself, and except for a bruise on my forehead, a few scrapes on my knee and a sore ankle, I seemed to be okay. Thank God for German engineering! They may self-ignite and throw you into a death spin, but they are built to pull you through it alive! My head ached, like a hangover. I thought to myself, is this what a concussion feels like? I was light-headed, but knew I had to start moving soon or it would be dark before I climbed the gravel trail back to the main road. I tried to open the door, but it was creased and buckled. I began to climb out of the open convertible. As I placed my foot on the edge of the frame my ankle gave out and I fell headlong into the undergrowth, tumbling further down the bank of the creek and into the cold mountain spring water. I lay there delirious for several minutes, finally going unconscious. That is nature’s way of relieving pain. Oblivion.

I don’t know how long I laid there in the frigid water, or how I ended up where I did. My first conscious recall is the smell of burning wood, the resin sputtering in the hot flames. I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of what I saw before me. An orange blaze licking up into a black sky, sending red sparks popping and dancing into the chilly night air. Had the car ignited again? Would I die from exposure or simply burn to death in a forest fire? I looked past the flames, and saw my clothing hanging over a tree branch, drying rapidly in the heat from the fire. What the Hell? I looked down at myself in the warm glow of the flames. I was naked, wrapped in several blankets and a well-worn buckskin jacket around my shoulders that smelled like pine. Despite the layers, I was shivering in the cool night air, my wet hair still dripping on the edge of the jacket. I saw movement on the far side of the clearing. A man approached the fire and dropped an armful of branches at my feet.

I was obviously still dreaming, caught somewhere between delirium and sanity. The man was immense, towering over me, as I lay helpless before him on my bed of pine needles. He wore a thick wooly sweater, bright red with a turtleneck. His body stretched the sweater tight. It was a size too small, or maybe it’s just hard to find sweaters large enough for a man this size. I saw huge pectorals straining the knit across his shoulders, and a barrel-shaped chest that tapered to his waist. Even in my pain I pictured the rippled six-pack that must be under that sweater. His blue jeans were well-worn heavy canvas; a working mans pant, tucked into the tops of his black steel-toe boots. He had a pale complexion, and his square chin with its heavy stubble looked almost blue against his white cheeks in the golden firelight. His hair was a mass of dark curls, shaggy and long overdue for a cut. He wore a knit cap high on his crown and wavy rings circled its rolled edge like a black halo. Was this a porno movie showing in my head, a very hot memory flashing before my eyes?

“Hey buddy, how you feel? You been out for a while, man. Shit, I was startin’ to think you weren’t gonna come out of it!”

He picked up a few of the logs he had gathered, and placed them into the campfire. The sparks licked upward as the wood settled into the embers. He suddenly lost his sympathy and growled:

“What the fuck are you doin’ back here in the goddamn woods? This is private property, if you weren’t already beat to shit, I would have you fuckin’ arrested for trespassing. You didn’t see the signs at the pass?

That’s what that sign was back there. Not a road sign at all, but a warning to stay out of the area. He went on to explain that the road I had been on just before the accident wasn’t the way to my sister’s place at all, but I had somehow turned onto a private access road into the heart of the paper company's vast property. I was a good 30 miles from civilization, and had actually been going further away from my destination for the last hour or so of my drive. So much for the Mercedes navigation system! He was a surveyor for the company, and stayed in the woods for days at a time making calculations and adjusting boundaries. The company planned the tree cuts with precision, and this man decided which area was next to be harvested based on age of growth and accessibility of the terrain.

“My goddam cell phone is tapped out, no juice in the battery. I wish I could call for help, but it’s gonna have to wait till mornin’ now, too dark to get back to the mill. You don’t look too bad. How’s yer head? Hurts, huh? You have a pretty big bump, and your eye is black. You look like you been knocked around pretty good. You're lucky you had your belt on, if you had been thrown under the car or into a tree you coulda been crushed to death. You were face down in the mud, I got ya cleaned up mostly, and yer clothes are almost dry. Just stay in the blankets for now.”

I found my voice to thank him for everything he had done. My teeth were chattering. I believe it was anxiety more than the chill. Despite his magnificent body and rugged good looks he was still a very daunting stranger, and you know what Mom taught you about being alone with one. I thought of him finding me unconscious, wounded and covered in mud. He must have stripped me to the buff, including my underwear, and wiped the mud from my body before wrapping me in his blankets and carefully placing his own jacket around my shoulders. I couldn’t help thinking that a man who would make such an effort can’t be a real threat.

He saw me shaking, and came over to sit next to me. He pulled one of my arms out of the cocoon of blanket and began to rub it between his large calloused hands. He was trying to improve my circulation, to warm my blood. He was warming me in ways that I doubted he knew! He took the other arm and repeated the rubbing. His hands rubbed hard and I felt the heat of friction coming from his palms. My sexuality was re-awakened and I was getting turned on despite the headache. I looked at him closely. His pants were generally loose fitting, but no amount of fabric could contain the basket he had just under the fly. How enormous could he possibly be, to make his pants fill out to that dimension? His boots had to be a size 12 or 13, easily. I wondered if it was true what they say about big feet. I began to hope I would find out tonight.

“You warming up? It gets pretty cold up here; it’ll probably go down into the 40’s tonight. You better stay wrapped up a while longer. Your clothes are still damp. Give me yer leg. By the way, my name’s Phil.”

Lying next to me, he took my ankle out of the covers and exposed my calf. I told him, “My friends call me Eddy.” Having my legs massaged vigorously in Phil’s palms felt great, really cozy, and if I wasn’t so turned on it might have been relaxing. He took the other leg in his hands, slipping the first back under the blanket. As he did, the coarse fabric fell away from my hip, revealing my erection to the man. His hand stopped rubbing, and he held still on my inner thigh for what seemed like forever. I didn’t know what Phil would think about my woody. He must have realized that it was a clear sign of my attraction to him. Would he ignore it, or would he be offended and beat the crap out of this little faggot for insulting his manhood? I waited to see. He looked up into my face and smiled.

“Y’know, it gets lonely up here sometimes. It sucks that you had a fuckin’ bad day, but I’m glad to have you here. I think sometimes when I’m out here alone that the rest of the world has disappeared that I’m the last man on earth. I love my job and I enjoy bein’ alone most the time, but a man has needs, y’understand?”

I did understand. I started to shiver again, but it was in anticipation. Phil’s hand started to move again, slowly up my thigh, heading up the inside of my leg. It wasn’t a massage anymore; it felt more like a caress. The huge mountain man had reached my balls with the tips of his dirty fingers. I told him again how grateful I was for his rescue, and I asked him in a whisper what I could do to repay him. His hand continued up, grabbing onto my balls, his meaty fingers wrapped around them, and his coarse palm scratching my delicate scrotum. His wide thumb slipped under my nuts into the warm crease between my legs. His other hand pulled the blanket from my body, showing him everything I had to offer to him as thanks for saving my life.

“Damn, dude, you’re a really good lookin’ guy! I was fuckin’ turned-on when I cleaned you up earlier. I had to resist nailing you there and then, ’cause how sick would it be to screw an unconscious man?”

He stroked my shoulders, brushing my light chest hairs with the flat of his hand. The glow of the campfire felt warm on my flesh. My chills had disappeared. He put his mouth to my neck, and nuzzled his abrasive beard into my shoulder blade. Phil released my balls and took my wrist, pulling my hand under his sweater. I felt his warm belly, covered in dense wiry hair. His abdominal muscles were hard as a rock, an immense torso with very little body fat. I reached up further into his scratchy sweater, my hands running through thick black hair that completely covered his mammoth chest. His pectorals rose high off his frame, in two mounds of pure muscle. I felt for his nipple, and found a large swollen knob of flesh that I pinched between my fingers.

“Oh, Eddy boy, you sure are a hot one, ain’t ya? You feel up to this? I ain’t some kind of predator. If you don’t feel good I can understand that, after what you been through today! Tell me now and I’ll back off. Don’t get me all fuckin’ worked up, to let me down!”

His head was still nestled in my neck, and I whispered in his ear what I thought he wanted to hear, that I wanted him, needed him deep inside me in every way he could think of entering me. He began to laugh, and with a booming shout, he stood up and pulled off his sweater. I saw him clearly in the firelight. He had hair across his entire torso and mounding on the tops of his shoulders, like black snow had landed delicately on his startlingly white skin. The carpet of fur on his chest was dense and thick, but cleared a little closer to his belly button and around his tits. His biceps were almost hair-free, but his forearms sported wiry black mats of hair. As he raised his mighty arms over his head to remove the sweater, I saw damp, curly black underarms. I envisioned him holding my face in those fragrant pits!

I watched Phil laughing and stripping in front of me, his testosterone almost like an aura around his body. As he pulled off his boots, I began to have self-doubts. Could I satisfy this big bear of a man? I have a good sex drive, I’ve been told I suck a mean dick, but there are physical limitations, no? The man standing in front of me is definitely size XXXL. I would be surprised if he pulled a little weenie out of those jeans! I was sure to see something not unlike one of the logs lying next to the fire. Phil was strip-teasing for me, flexing his muscles and popping his pecs, asking me if I liked what I saw. He opened his fly and dropped his pants to his ankles. My cock leapt up just looking at the bazooka that he had focused on me. I’m not good at measurements, but fully erect it seemed at least ten inches long. It was glowing white in the dim light, crossed with a rich network of ripples and veins running up it’s engorged shaft. It was narrower at the base and got thicker as it went out, swelling near the head like a squash. His dick grew out of a mound of black, curly hair that covered his groin and continued down his legs in drifts. Phil’s balls were heavy and hung very low below his cock. He kicked his pants off his feet. I got up out of the safety of my blankets and crawled like a dog on the pine needles to his prodigious penis. I took its plump end into my mouth and sucked in the bulging crown.

“Fuck, Eddy, take it for me, buddy! I need you real bad, you’re like a freakin’ miracle the way you turned up tonight. I’m gonna make you forget all about your little accident. It was fate buddy that delivered you to me! C’mon Eddy, take it deeper!”

Phil grabbed me by the ears and pulled my head into his crotch. His cock jabbed deeper into my mouth, and I gagged. He stopped pushing, but didn’t pull out. I recovered, and grabbing his great round ass cheeks in my hands, pulled him towards me driving the last few inches of his meat past my throat. We paused again. He seemed to sense when I needed to stop and catch my breath. Again I gagged, but held him firmly in my throat. I knew from experience that if I could calm my gag reflex I could take him all the way to his ejaculation. I wanted the salty taste of his cock, my face buried in his generous mound of woodsy-smelling black hair; and feel his cum flowing down my throat. He slowly pumped in and out of me for a few minutes, moaning and cursing and encouraging me to take it for him. Then without warning, Phil pulled out. Had I done something wrong? I thought I was doing pretty well considering how intensely he was plugging my face.

He left me on my knees, and went to the fire to throw a few logs into the flames. As he stoked the fire, he ordered me to lie down in the blankets again, and said he would be right back. Walking to the edge of our little clearing, he put his hands on his hips and I watched him spread his legs and start to urinate. I heard the hum of his stream hitting the dry leaves on the forest floor. I could see his backside lit by the newly revived flames. The hair on his shoulders continued to drift down his deltoids in two dark patches. I saw steam rising from the stream of piss arcing in front of the hefty man. I was so fucking turned on by watching him I felt my cum rising in my dick. I pinched hard; I wanted to save my orgasm for later. There was more to come.

I lay down in the fuzzy blanket; face down, waiting for him to invade my ass. I raised my butt in the air as an offering, a clear signal that he could take me. He came over and chuckled.

“Not time for that yet, little man. I guess you like getting fucked! That’s real good, but I don’t know if you’re gonna like ole Phil hammering you. You ever take eleven inches up your chute? You’ll do it tonight. If it’s what you want, I’ll make sure it happens fer ya. Let’s wait a while, we got all night.”

He came down beside me on the blanket and grabbed my shoulders. Pushing me to one side, I rolled over on my back. Phil stretched out next to me. He was leaning over with his big chest pushing down on my arm, his pelvis next to mine, his cock grinding in sexual rhythm against my hip. He put his arm under my head, and I finally put my face into his underarm. The generous hair, matted with perspiration, was fragrant and woodsy. He smelled like the forest he lived in, like the musty fragrance of the earth. It was incredibly pleasant and comforting. I breathed him into my nostrils as he held me tightly in his embrace.

We kissed for the first time, his warm mouth tasted vaguely like a pipe or a cigar. But it was all good. Nothing about this King-Kong would turn me off; I was too far into him. He straddled me and turned the other way, his cock dangling over my nose and his big square jaw poised over mine. I wrapped my arms around his considerable thighs and pulled him towards me. He put his lips on the tip of my cock and sucked me in as he lowered his ass on my face. Phil’s asshole was wet and slippery. The fur didn’t stop at his ass; it surrounded his bud in loose curls of matted hair. I licked in lazy circles. I swabbed his asshole, tasting the briny sweat mixed with the rutting, brutish smell of a man. I forced my tongue into his ass, and I felt his jaw tighten on my cock. I tried pulling away; I wanted to get back to my blowjob on his perfect cock. He grunted and pushed my head back in place. He pulled his head off my dick for a moment.

“I don’t want you to suck me off, maybe later. I want you to cum now, so jus’ lie there and enjoy it. You’re gonna get nailed but good, Eddy, and I want my juices to be flowin’ when I'm in your ripe little ass!”

It’s hard to argue with a man of his size, when he’s mashing your head into the blanket with his butt. I relaxed and savored the beefy ass that was pressed over my face. The hairs tickled my nose as my tongue continued to bathe his hole with spit. His taste was everywhere, overwhelming. I felt it in my throat; I exhaled his aroma through my nostrils. Rimming a man is not always pleasant for me. I don’t like bathroom smells. This was different. His scent was making me dizzy with desire. I felt the cool mountain air on my right side, the heat of the fire on my left. The big lug pressing his shit hole into my face was a really accomplished cocksucker. I guess I didn’t expect that. I thought the sex would probably be more one sided, me satisfying him. That would have been okay. I wasn’t sure at the beginning if he would even let me cum.

I was enjoying his rough stubbly face rasping on my belly as he took me fully into his mouth and let my dick slid back out again. I felt the cum surging up from my balls. I warned him, in case he wasn’t into eating jizz. He didn’t stop, he took me deep and I injected my load into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. He tightened his lips around my shaft and took several more shots. Holding my creamy wad in, he began to swirl my cock in my own cum. It felt absolutely unbelievable. He pulled off of me, and turning face to face, deposited my full load of cum into my waiting mouth. We kissed and swapped fluids between our lips and both swallowed a good amount of the thick gel. Some clung to his face in white smudges, running into the black stubble on his chin. He let his body drop firmly down on mine, knocking the air out of me.

The fire was burning down again, but the heat of our sex was keeping me very hot. He got himself into position, and started to massage his cock. His tongue circled my mouth, licked my cheeks and eyes, and pressed against my lips. I opened them to let Phil’s tongue in. Our mouths tasted bitter, like orange peel, from the cum we had swapped. As we kissed, Phil got himself ready. A condom appeared from his buckskin jacket. Phil spoke softly as he rolled the lightly lubricated sheath over his meaty shaft.

“Eddy, I haven’t been with many men, jus’ a few, I usually dig women. But sex is sex, and as long as I get off, a man will do. I guess that makes me bi? I don’t fuckin’ care what you call it. Thing is, I never took cum before. You’re my first. Now I’m gonna be inside you, as close to you as I can get. I wanna feel your guts rolling around when my cock plows deep inta’ ya. I want you to enjoy it, too, but you might not. I’ve been told I’m a little hard to take, if you know what I mean! I‘m sorry, man, but you wanted it. It‘s too late to stop now!”

He grabbed at his dick to get a little harder, and I felt it slip between my cheeks, resting at the opening to my ass. Putting his big gorilla arms under my knees, he drew my legs up and flipped me in half. He had me pinned in place, helpless, his fleshy drill ready to screw me good. I reassured him that I wanted it too, and I didn’t care about anything but making it happen. Let me scream, let me wail, but don’t stop for a second. I’m sure I wanted him in me more than he did! The fat end of his cock slipped through my portal, and I immediately felt the agonizing pressure as he stretched me open. I begged him to go on, it would be easier if he just went in all the way. Like going into cold water, it’s better to do it fast than wade in slowly. He forced down on my butt with his full weight, driving his cock deep into my rectum. I held him around his shoulders, my hands locked together behind his neck. I felt light-headed. The searing pain began to recede. I felt okay, he was moving inside me and I was okay! Hooray! His full length was buried in me. I felt his thickset dick jabbing at my prostate. I was shivering again, but it was in rapture.

His cock drove in and out of my ass like a jackhammer. His hulking frame rolled on my body, crushing me under his weight. I loved the feeling of helplessness, he was totally dominating me, and I was at his mercy. He could squash me in a second if he lost control. I buried my face in his neck, and moaned into his ear. I urged him to take me hard. He was encouraged by the reaction, and nailed his spike even farther into my belly.

“Eddy! Where the fuck have you been all my life? (Huff, huff) I’ve been lookin’ for you and I didn’t know it! (Huff, huff) You’re the goddamn best freakin’ hole I ever plugged! (Hungh, gasp) Eddy! Goddamn it! I’m cumming now, take my load, take my load! SHIT!”

I held his shoulders tightly as I felt him advance a final attack on my gut. His dick was eleven inches into my body, a hard, unforgiving rod jabbing at my prostate; it’s solid fullness stretching my ruined asshole to the limit. He jerked forward, pushing my back into the blanket, as he shot load after load of cum into the condom, concealed deep in my ass.

Phil and I clung to each other as his spasms slowly tapered off, and he stopped ejaculating. I had never experienced an orgasm like the one Phil just had had. Just as I thought he was drained, he tensed up and released another shot. He came in waves for a full minute. I hoped it was something special for him, and that I had been able to make it happen. He was lying on me, his massive body like a ton of bricks, but I loved it. I was so absorbed in him. We were like one entity. He rolled off me, leaving his hot sweat pooling on my skin, rapidly cooling in the frosty wilderness night. He pulled the condom off his dick.

“Shit, man, the goddamn condom broke! I’m fuckin’ sorry, Eddy! I’m HIV negative, but I guess you’ll have to trust me on that, it’s too late to take my cum back now!”

He had stretched the poor condom to its limit; he had chafed it on the inside of my asshole for almost an hour, and then filled it with enough semen to impregnate a small city. Latex was never designed for that kind of punishment. I looked at he slippery bit of film in Phil’s hand--it’s reservoir split. His cum was oozing from both ends. I had to be philosophical about it. We did what we were supposed to do--we used a condom. Goddamn that condom! He had saved my life earlier that day, and I prayed he hadn’t taken it away again.

I’ve been seeing Phil now for three years. He was, and still is, HIV negative. I take two-week vacations in the spring and again in the fall, and spend it hiking through the mountains with the surveyor for Fisher Paper Mills, Inc. We e-mail each other often, and we both have web cams so we can chat face-to-face. It’s a good relationship; he gets his solitude for forty-eight weeks of the year, and pounds his dick into my butt the other four.