Gay Erotic Stories

Such was the case one early summer evening. Going to University, but still living at home, presented a host of both conveniences and the obvious privacy problems. One just couldn’t bring a strange boy home and expect parental approval for a “sleep over”—that type of ruse had gone out with the backyard sleeping in the tent.

I had my little white Camaro convertible, which served to attract quite a lot of attention when one drove around downtown “scooping the loop” as it was called back then. Certainly it was cute, but being a “6 banger and an automatic” made competing with muscle cars simply out of the question. However, since I was not flush with money, I laughed all the way to the gas station. I was content to drive around and soak up the local scenery. This included girls too, but usually driving alone, it didn’t take too long for the guys to see through to what probably was my real interest and reason for being on the loop.

One such night, I’d driven around for a good hour or so and was just about ready to pack it in, since it was just a week night, when I happened to run into a guy I’d seen before. I didn’t really know him, but he did work at the same hospital I did. I was a surgical tech in training, and he worked at the other end of the hospital on one of the rehabilitation floors.

He apparently had noticed either me or my car, or possibly me from work, as he waived and shouted something out the window. I had the top down, but due to the traffic, and his being two lanes over, I couldn’t make it out. He signaled to pull over ahead and I agreed, pulling behind his little Oldsmobile F-85. I’d barely got the car stopped and killed the engine, when he walked back from his car and stood facing my driver’s door.

At this point, I was all too conveniently at perfect crotch level…and a swollen one it was. If he wasn’t hard yet…I’d sure be concerned as to what the hell happened when it was. He made some small talk, about nice car, etc. He asked what I was doin’ and lookin’ for and while he asked, he brazenly rubbed his crotch. There I was starin’ at the damn thing…obvious as hell. I’m not sure what my response was, other than to suggest we might drive around for a while. He readily agreed, locked up his car on a side street and hopped in my passenger seat.

We introduced ourselves and made a couple of trips around the loop. Then he sort of surprised me, stating he had to work early in the morning and probably should be thinking about going home. No sooner had he said that than he placed his hand on my right knee, rubbing it up and down against the skin below my shorts. My problem became almost immediately obvious. He then asked if I had a place, to which I said that I lived with my parents and family and everyone was home. He said he lived south of town in a trailer park with his dad, and so we had no “place”. He then suggested that he knew an isolated place in the country, and that if we wanted to, it would be safe. I agreed and followed him out of town, heading southeast.

We pulled off the road and onto a dirt/gravel lane of sorts that wound between a grove of trees. It quickly became isolated and after we’d stopped our cars, and turned off the lights, it took a while to be able to make anything out at all, as the moon was only a sliver. He didn’t waste any time with pleasantries or small talk, just stripped off his shirt and pulled down his jeans. He had no underwear and his dick just plopped out when it was set free.

It would be very fair to say that he was blessed. He was also blessed with an uncut cock that to date I’d had very little experience with. Not going to be left in the dust, I also pulled off my T-shirt and slid off my shorts and Jockey’s. We moved together and both immediately began fondling each other’s rods. I had immediately sprung a hardon, but mine was nowhere as large as his was—and I was cut.

He dropped to his knees and just went straight for my dick, and began sucking in like he wanted everything to be over in a couple minutes. At the rate and energy level he was attacking my dick—it probably would be. However, just as soon as he started, he stopped just as quickly and stood up. This apparently signaled my turn.

At this point, I was not an expert cock sucker. My forte was jacking off and fucking when the guy turned out to be receptive to the idea. As I bent down, I quickly discovered that he apparently had not washed down there in some time. When I took hold of his musky/ripe dick I pulled back the foreskin with the firs stroke. The smell hit me like a foul ball. Instantly I held my breath and came close to gagging on the disgusting smell. I knew right then that there was no way in HELL that my lips were touching that filthy thing no matter how horny I was or how desperate he was to have his tool worked over.

I stood up and flat out advised him of my “non-performance clause”. He didn’t say much other that he’d kind of skipped a couple of showers; otherwise he’d been late to work. Well, all was not lost. We salvaged the night by stroking each other first. It was a warm evening and both of us easily broke a sweat. Soon, we were both pressing against each other and sticky turned to slippery as we sweated more. He then dropped the suggestion that I could fuck him if I’d like.

Mama raised one horny little bastard—so of course I agreed. I wasn’t about to look a “gift horse in the mouth” (not that smelly thing), but in the ass—hell yeah! His backside was full of sweat and a good amount had dripped between his cheeks, making the pathway to his asshole delightfully pre-lubricated.

I parked, positioned, and slipped her into drive. Apparently this guy had been around the block more than a few times. My dick slipped right inside with a minimum amount of fanfare. Of course at that age—resistance would have been futile—no, or “it hurts, take it out” is just NOT the right answer. Anyway, he just let out a throaty sigh and backed against me as I went to town.

In the meantime, he was choking and stroking away on his uncut, slippery one-eyed monster. We went a couple rounds, backing off to rest and hold off, and then he suggested we’d better just finish the job, since he had to get home. We both started in again. He was such a pig, he’d get over zealous and push back too hard, nearly knocking me off balance. I solved this by reaching around him and grabbing his dick and his whipping hand. I don’t think I was much help, but it saved me from parking my ass on the ground.

The end of the line came a few minutes later… He shot first, sending gobs of cum all over his hands, dick, and my hand too when he pulled away and let me play with the slime-ridden thing. Well that was just too much for old faithful…and my geyser erupted a good five or six volleys into his ass, leaving a trail of cum dripping when I pulled out.

Just as there had been little if any foreplay, when we were finished, so was he. I was okay with this as there was no way I wanted him to suck me clean or worse—the thought of me playing with that disgustingly filthy, smelly dick. He just pulled up his pants, not bothering to put on his shirt, wiping his hands with it instead, and said, “See ya ‘round.”

He was already in his car and pulling away by the time I got dressed and into mine. Since there was only one way in, I had no problem finding my way out. He turned right; I hung a left and headed home for a good hot shower.

I did see him at work on occasion, and we acknowledged each other but nothing sexual ever happened again. A few months later, I learned that he’d been fired from the hospital for being caught “molesting” some handicapped patients. He was apparently a some sort of perverse sick’o too! Sometime later, I also learned about the concept of smegma or “head cheese”.

Today, looking back…it’s a wonder I like cheese at all. Yeah, I like 'em all—except one!