Gay Erotic Stories

I led the way upstairs to the second floor (or the first floor as mother called it—another one of her English quirks.) I briefly pointed out the lay of the land—my parents’ master bedroom, my older brother’s room (still kept for him when he chose to come home), my sister’s lair (the door was closed and she had her stereo on—I was thankful). I turned and walked to the end of the hallway and opened the much narrower door. I held it open for Virgil, who hesitated when he saw another flight of narrower stairs—I guessed he wasn’t expecting a third floor. I hit the lights and we pushed forward.

I’d been lucky enough to take over the entire third floor…which actually had been more of an attic than a bedroom. It was a compromise I’d insisted on if I was going to live at home while continuing school. The first year I’d worked at finishing the room and we’d even hired a contractor to put in a half-bath—sink, toilet, and small shower. The room wasn’t elaborate, but it was functional and it gave me what I wanted most—privacy.

Virgil was visibly impressed by the sheer size of my little customized abode. He said that back home he’d shared a bedroom with his brother, as his two sisters (Vicki and Vanessa) had their own rooms. It turned out that he was a twin, but his sister won the right to have her own room, so he shared with his brother—Vaughn, Jr. Notice a pattern? I just had to ask—his mother’s name was of course—Virginia. I began ton conger up some mighty strange thoughts about that family. “So you and…Vaughn…shared a bedroom.” (I was fishing…)

“Yeah, we had bunk beds—I was on top,” Virgil explained. (Okay if you say so…) “Man I sure wish I had this kind of room…sure beats the socks off my dorm.”

At this point, I’d not thought about that. “You have to share?” I asked.

“So far…not yet…” he sighed, “Last year I lived with a pig,” he added. (I thought about asking what kind of pig, but decided against it.)

“Well, anything you get claustrophobic, come on up here and see me…” I chided, but he missed my play on words. “Want to check out some TV or some tunes?” I asked.

“Naw, I guess not. Don’t ya think we might be keepin’ your folks up?” he asked. I assured him that even when I have the stereo turned up, they’ve never heard it. But apparently he just wasn’t interested and indicated he was fixin’ to just drop off. Well, hitting the sack was ultimately what I had in mind anyway.

Being safely tucked away upstairs, I’d taken to sleeping naked and hadn’t worn pajamas since probably around 12 or so. I’d discarded the idea of just sleeping in my jockey’s a couple years later when I’d discovered the art of masturbation. Out of courtesy, I decided I’d revert to sleeping in my jockey’s (at least to start) so as not to appear too bold—just in case he wasn’t hittin’ and swingin’ for the same team. I stripped down to my jockey’s and began pulling the covers back from my double bed. I didn’t make any excuses since Virgil was used to sharing the room anyway. I caught a glimpse of him peeling off his shirt as I walked around to fold down the other side. My eyes widened when I watched him drop his jeans…nothing! He just stood there naked. Out of consideration (yeah, sure) I pulled off my jockey’s. Virgil was completely cavalier with regard to his natural self. (This was a good start).

“Which side ya’ll use?” he asked.

“It really doesn’t matter, I kind of migrate all over the place,” I confessed.

“Well, in that case we’ll probably be wraslin’ for position,” he added with a smile.

“Well then, who ever pins the other first—needs to count three!” (This could get interesting.) He apparently got the humor of it…and broke out in a bid smile. Thinking of this potential for body contact…I took a gander at his crotch. Nice respectable dick—probably a good 4-5 inches flaccid—and not necessarily a surprise—uncut. Virgil had just a wisp of hair in the upper center of his chest, but a very pronounced “happy trail” from his belly button down to his moderately hairy crotch. He placed his shirt on a chair, and I was treated to a great ass shot when he picked up his jeans. He had a surprisingly hairy ass. Nice cakes! My tongue was on autopilot—wagging around inside my mouth.

Virgil just took the side closed to him, and I the other. He just laid there making no attempt to pull up the covers. I sure as hell wasn’t going to cover up a good view. The room went silent…both of us with nothing to say. I caught him eyeing my chest, then surveying down to my feet, and returning. I was cautiously doing the same—sort of like taking inventory. We caught each other and laughed. “Looks like ya’ got all your parts there,” Virgil nodded.

“Yeah, and they all work too…” I blurted out…before I realized the gravity of my attempt and humor.

“I think you and I are goin’ ‘ta be real good friends… I can just feel it.” Virgil observed. (Yeah, I sure hope he’ll feel it!) With that he patted me on the leg. I returned the compliment in like kind. When I did this, I happened to notice that his dick was growing slightly and that the head had pushed past his foreskin a bit. This caused a stir and a tingle in my own loins. I appeared to be interested in the fact that he was uncut…and asked him if it was any different. “Oh, ya’ mean when I whip it?” he replied.

“Whip it? Whatdya mean?” (I’m good at playin’ dumb, but I the work “whip” kinda bothered me a bit.)

Uh, you know…when you ‘mastribate’…or whatchacallit…” Virgil struggled. I contained myself and agreed… “Oh yeah, when you masturbate.”

All this talk was having its desired effect…Virgil’s dick was now a respectable 6-7 inches I guessed. He was also intent on watching mine misbehave. It appeared we were the same general size, although his curved left slightly. Then Virgil surprised me…he reached down and pulled his skin back tightly, which had the effect of causing his rod to lengthen about another inch. (Okay, okay you win—but I hope you’re interested in the prize.)

Not to be outdone, I followed suit, but not with such dramatic results. I thought about what my dad once told me… “It’s always best having the right sized tool for the job…”

“Me and my brother compared all the time… but he’s a biggun… ‘bout 3 inches longer and bigger too,” he said as he made a big “O” with his thumb and forefinger.

“Time to cut to the chase… get down to brass tacks…” I thought. “You two guys ever fool around?” I asked.

“Oh sure... did that a lot. Vaughn was a good teacher; learned me everything…” (It sounded like fingernails on a blackboard, but I tried not to wince—thereby accidentally giving out the wrong impression.)

“Maybe he was going to be easier than I thought!” I was momentarily impressed—and got what turned out to be a false sense of security. I rubbed his leg, then reached over and replaced his hand with mine. Virgil didn’t say anything, he just laid there. I was thinking he’d automatically reciprocate…but no such luck.

“Feel’s good,” he finally got out. “Always better with someone else’s hand…”

I slid closer, pushing my body against his frame. He turned to face me and we lay on our sides—face-to-face. I’d pulled my hand off his dick, so we were free to press our crotches against each other. I leaned into him intent on a lip-lock, but Virgil pulled away, “I ain’t never kissed no one,” he stammered.

Shit—old Vaughn there DIDN’T “learn” him everything! Hell’s bells…I had to be dealing with a damn virgin! God I hate “V” words! “Well, I’d guess it’s high time you learned…you know…master the art.” I waited, and then heard a faint, ‘guess so’. I leaned forward again…this time Virgil didn’t pull back. Some nice lip action, so I threaded my tongue past his puckered lips…they opened. He surprised me and shot his tongue in my mouth. He as takin’ to this like a duck to water! Then came the passion as we swapped spit.

Virgil was sure as hell enjoying it…I was having difficulty coming up for air. His crotch was also now bucking against mine. Then it happened…that unmistakable warm flood. Virgil came—and I was hoping for SO much MORE—playtime that is. With regard to quantity, I got a lot…this kid probably hadn’t cum in weeks! “Sorry, I came…” he managed between body shudders.

“Yeah, I know…kind of obvious.”

“Sorry, did I mess up?” he said as he looked down and then shrugged.

“That’s okay…” was my automated response. Then I decided that his show was apparently over and I’d better figure a way to get my own rocks off. I thrust my meat against his crotch, but old Virgil was goin’ all sensitive on me too fast and was bucking away. He got the message as to what I wanted, so he was relieved when I slid up spreading his cum upward and fucked his stomach. This solved two problems, his sensitive dick got relief, and my throbbing prick didn’t get road rash from his crotch hairs.

Shortly thereafter I shot a mighty respectable wad of my own, streaking up his chest and hitting the side of his neck once. We pressed together and the cum made an audible sucking sound when we moved. I licked the cum from his neck…he leaned back… “Jesus…ya’ll EAT that stuff?”

“Where the hell has this kid been? This whole thing was going to be one fucking struggle…oh and the “F” word…that should prove interesting. Damn virgin—Virgil the virgin from “Virginie”. I wisely kept that thought between me, myself and I! I had another “V” word for this kid...and it was also sexual… “VICE!”

A wave of evil pulsed through my mind… Without warning I leaned forward and gave him a wet kiss, thrusting my tongue in his mouth. “Cum baby…cum… Now you know…” I thought. He struggled a bit…but then he kissed me back.

“Well, whatdaya think? Like it?”

“I dunna know, suppose we better wash up?” he asked.

“You can if you really need to,” I let him figure out the preferred answer.

“Well, if you don’t mind…I guess not.”

“Good, ‘cause I like to smell like I’ve been fucking!” I said it for shock effect… His eyes visibly widened; he didn’t speak. I reached, more like slid over him and turned off the light, then slid back. Virgil spoke softly, “G’night. Thanks ‘fer everything.” He leaned into me and gave me a gentle kiss—just the lips man—just the lips.

I rolled over and assumed my favorite sleeping position and nodded off. Later that night I awoke when I felt an arm snake around my chest and the heat of a sticky body against my back. Virgil was going to require instruction…and certainly some additional “maintenance” but I guessed he was right…friends…special friends--and his soul was apparently up for it.