Gay Erotic Stories

From circular finger pressure at his brow, down to cracking his toes, he bathed in the relaxing sensuality. Much to my own glee, the intensity of the sensual experience apparently had an erotic side effect, because his glorious meat, the prize of my all my careful schemes, was now stretched out to its full mast, the elegant strawberry at its end glistening with the yearning juices generated deep within his rugged loins.

He was splayed about like this in the middle of the bed, legs wide open, trustingly vulnerable to my considered ministrations. There was no way on God's green earth that I was going to betray that trust. With a new determination, I committed myself to restrain my greed in the service I was about to render. I sucked and licked about the full length of this living cooking sausage to his unqualified delight and encouragement. At the peak of intensity in my enthusiastic oral function, I would apply my most ardent suctions, swirl my wet urgent tongue about with the greatest speed and pressure, and open my throat to take the length of his frantically pulsating shaft as far down as possible.

Coincidentally, I would use my other hand bestowed with busy probing and caressing fingers to explore the soft pouch of matching marbles, down the smooth flesh of his crotch to the super soft crevice which descends to the puckering star that guarded his back side hole and back again. With this strident combination in sensual overdrive I would carefully use all my faculties to monitor his responses. If I could feel the veins in his shaft stand out, also detecting a slight expansion in girth, a slight alteration in the taste of the man fluid oozing from his pee hole, the flesh about the pee hole itself becoming more tender, the pace of the pulsations and twitches increasing; I would be alerted to make changes in my applications.

I would then decrease the intensity of the suction, slow down the urgency of my tongue, firmly resist the thrusts of his hips, my upward strokes with my head pulling further back, sometimes even to remove the lovely sausage from my mouth altogether and return to licking, kissing, and nibbling about its drenched length. My other hand would cease its fondling altogether. My recipient's cerebral response to the decreasing intensity in my technique was not favorable at first.

"You little crazy son-of-a-bitch! . . . What the fuck are you doing? . . . Goddamn cock tease! . . . SUCK ME! ... EAT ME! … Harder!"

When I would reverse the process, building an increased intensity once again, the tenor of his vocalizations would change altogether. "Ooooooooooo, yyeeeeesssss, that’s sssooooo much better. . . . That's right, harder! … Ahh! Ahh! . . . Rub my balls. . Please, swallow me.!" This roller coaster-like alternation transpired at least three times. When finally I brought him to sensory overload, his great man gristle nearly tore away my throat. "Heeeyyaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!" he screeched. Gushing ropes of warm slithering silky cum careened down my gullet tasting superbly of pent up man fester. "Ahh, uuughh," the flesh about his loins broke out in great shudders and spreading in either direction.

We lay on the bed for a few minutes saying nothing in labored breathing. The remnants of cum about my lips and mouth tasted stronger than I had recollected, but still retained a sweetness that was irresistible. Predictably, when he finally spoke up, it was with commanding volume.

"God that was in-fucking-credible! You really did yourself proud that time, Blonde. Through all the ages, I can't imagine any girl or woman has blown a guy like that. That was 'blue ribbon', as we say in these parts. Later on tonight Blonde, you're going to get a horse ride on my shoulders I know you will enjoy. Damn, it’s the least I can do."

He had all the ingredients for the dinner he was preparing laid out on the kitchen counter. He cooked while I laid out the fireplace. We sat down and waffled down the nourishment into our chops in a manner not befitting polite society. The fire snapping and crackling, we started to converse on our second helping. Bob related to me that after I had fallen asleep, he was disappointed that there was nothing in the ice trays. He filled them then but considered traveling down the road, outside of the bounds of the forest to a nearby convenience store.

"You were out cold in that bedroom. I kept checking your eye by lifting your eyelid. It was bloodshot as hell, but I never could see that it was swelling." Again, he apologized effusively, but I insisted on waving off the incident as trivial and not to be considered again. Looking down at his plate and now only playing with the food with his fork, "We may have another physical problem, Blonde," he cautioned.

Myself looking puzzled, "I usually prepare this dish out in open camp, when we sleep in individual sleeping bags." It was a concoction consisting of primarily pinto beans and cheese. A smirk started to spread over his face. "If we are going to be sleeping together again tonight, it may not be very pleasant for both of us. At the very least, you may not want to follow me into the bathroom, tonight." He raised his ass about two feet off the sofa seat, his face beet red, and `let one rip'.

"Wwhhhhooooooonnnnkk!" So amused by the loudness of his deliberate flatulence, he nearly dropped his food on the coffee table and rendered himself paralyzed with hysterics. I playfully clenched a fist and mockingly threatened to punch. Fortunately, I never detected any obnoxious aromatic accompaniment to the gaseous emission. Feigning deep offense, I inquired if he entertained Anne in such an outrageously anti-social manner. Still overwhelmed by mirth, he was unable to reply.

Trying to match him, I must have cast a vulgar appearance. In my nakedness I was crouching in the living room, flexing my bowels, attempting my own noisy expulsion. All I could muster, "phhiiip!" This only encouraged him to increase the pace of his convulsive laughter. I let the matter drop for I still had not finished what was on my plate. I did not want the evening to degenerate into a scene reminiscent of the Hollywood film, "Blazing Saddles".

Our stomachs full, we lounged about in our continuing state of undress for the rest of the evening. For the second night in a row, I would stumble on my words as I swooned in his presence, still awe struck by his grace and beauty. We laughed and joked, confiding in each other about past sexual exploits, both failures as well as successes. When we both became weary with fatigue, Bob crouched by the sofa, the sight of his tensed leg muscles making me weak in the knees. I took the hint and climbed on to the seat of the sofa behind him.

Climbing on to ample warm ivory smooth shoulders once more, "I promised you a good ride, buddy." I hardly had time to inhale before we were up and about, his jogging me all about the rooms and yelling out roundup calls. This time he did feel my persistent arousal and laughed out loud, pleading with me not to cum on the back of his head. He did not want to have to shampoo again that evening. Just as I thought our jaunt was concluding, he reached down at the front door to unlatch the lock. His next action astonished me. He kicked open the front door and ran with me into the chilly open night.

Fortunately, the general vicinity was not especially well lit and I judged the adjacent cabins to us to be vacant. The odds were probably high that no one caught sight of us in our nude high jinx. My naked carrier had enough presence of mind to not whoop and holler in the open air, calling attention to our unconventional lap around the cabin. Back inside, he jogged me right up to our bed and pulled back the covers for me to climb in. I decided I would take my chances sleeping with him again tonight, despite the contents of our meal. He insisted on clearing and turning out the lights. Once his chilled frame was in bed next to me, we hugged and kissed and crossed our limbs to warm each other snugly, like two young children on an adventurous outing.

On both days on the trail, Bob was true to his word and would always alert me when he needed to pee. Much to his amusement, I would already be at his side crouched at waist level to witness his unzipping before he reached in the flap to extract his magnetically handsome snaking hose. I would always be intent on witnessing every dribble he had to squirt and openly express my disappointment at his obligation to conceal it again after satisfactory relief. He would laugh and giggle. "You crazy devil, I can't walk around with my dick hanging out."

"Why not?" I retorted. "You are always trying to second-guess what the dicks of all the men and boys we meet on these hikes look like. Why can't you just have yours out in the open so they will know how you look? It spares them the energy of having to use their imaginations." He wouldn't reply. He would just grip me in a headlock and dish out more of his 'noogies'.

Two or three times each day, I would start feeling familiar when we were on our own. I would stare at his bulge and reach out to brazenly feel one of his ass cheeks. He would wink at me, "whoa there buddy, we can comfortably hike off trail a little way up here and have us a little fun". He always knew where these unfrequented paths were. We would trek up to a quarter of a mile and suddenly he would back up against a tree with his most seductive 'come hither' expression. I would instantly drop to my knees and undo his jeans to reacquaint myself with the treasure that he would allow me the privilege of lavishing my attentions.

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On the second day, melancholy was rearing its ugly head, as we prepared our hike back to the SUV, so ending our excursion of diverse pleasures. Suddenly, we thought we heard a loud moan. We stopped in our tracks, ears arched in the silent wilderness. Bob surmised it might have been a hawk, but before continuing on, we heard a softer and lower pitched groan. This was followed by two loud grunts almost in unison. Bob turned to me holding his forefinger up to pursed lips. Noiselessly he started to take off his shoes and signaled me to do the same. Stealthily, we trotted off the trail on to another path of slight incline for about fifty yards, where a consistent grunting noise was getting louder. Suddenly we could see ahead to a small clearing. I could make out two human figures by a solitary aspen at a distance of about another 40 yards.

Adjusting my eyes, it appeared that they could be two naked men. Bob, signaled me to drop my shoes and backpack and prepare to remove my binoculars from my case. We stood by a small spruce that could shield us from discovery. Training our visual aids in that general direction, my initial perception was accurate as we spied on two very slender men, naked as `jay birds'. Their clothes and backpacks were separately neatly set aside. They were not stick like in that they both revealed lanky musculature, but wore scrappy short-cropped hair as to be almost `skinhead'. I estimated them to be in their mid to late twenties and both roughly 6'. One was sitting on the ground facing us, sucking the cock of his companion in profile. The cocksucker was also fully erect. Unlike his companion, his face revealed a short trimmed goatee. Glints of sun betrayed that they both had multiple piercings about the ears. The cocksucker probably was adorned with a pierced left nipple.

They both sported a number of tattoos. The cocksucker had one at his hip almost encroaching into the pubic zone. The recipient had a large one at the small of his back, spreading over the rise of his right ass cheek. I estimated both their cocks to be 7 - 7.5" cut. The cocksucker was generally straight; the recipient had a slight arch about his shaft and his glans bent down. They both had thick dark man bushes out of proportion with their overall constitutions. This encounter was a remarkable bonus for our excursion already replete with carnal extravagance.

We signaled each other with thumbs up and enthusiastic expressions for stumbling into our unwitting performers. Within seconds after being resolved to perch us in witness to this open-air event, the recipient's cock was removed from the mouth of his attendant. The seated man still grasping his companion's throbbing pillar, the two of them exchanged words too softly to be intelligible to us. Suddenly he stood and kissed his companion fully on the lips, grasping their two cocks together. The passion of the kiss was intense enough for exchange of tongues to be visible to us.

The lively feelings of tingling and heat began to mingle about my male nether regions after having been so dormant in our earlier sadness. My spirits and protuberance were lifted to tent joyfully against the hiking shorts that concealed it. The bearded man followed his companion up to the trunk of the tree, his hands stroking his waist and hips the full distance, their undiminished cocks bobbing about. The man who had been recipient bent over at the waist at roughly a horizontal angle, reaching for the tree trunk to support his posture. He spread thin legs, knees slightly bent, giving us a good view of the low hanging sac that contained proportionately small orbs of his sexual offerings. His arched cock flinched and twitched about perhaps in anticipation of his companion's advances. The angle of the sun being directly on both of them, I thought I could detect occasional drips of excitation drooling from the ends of both their ready ramrods.

The bearded man who had so contentedly mouthed intimate contacts on his companion's arousal now stood directly behind him carefully scrutinizing how he could take best advantage of his friend's new gait. Both his hands caressing and fondling the scrawny ass of the bent man, he suddenly lowered himself on his knees so that he was nearly at eye level with the other man's posterior. Carefully fingering and spreading ass cheeks, he just as suddenly buries his face into the other man's exposed rear end. Nose and mouth become almost invisible to me, presumably attentive to the opening of his companion's anal canal as movement about his jaw and cheeks suggest some oral manipulations directed at those parts.

Just as I consider angling my binocular location to the now recipient of posterior services, I hear a distant throaty moan. Upon adjustment, his face just inches from the tree trunk reveals an extreme grimace of clenched teeth and furrowed brow. Because he was in no way restrained and made no effort to alter his stance, I had to deduce that these were expressions of ecstatic physical pleasure. His mouth returned to a gaping pose and his eyes began to assume a glaze, as if he were not looking at any particular object. Occasionally he would lower his head below his shoulders, as if to evaluate the temperament of his twitching aroused sex. As such, he would continue to utter quick grunts and groans. I contemplated arising to position myself where I would be able to view at a more direct angle the physiological parts and organs and the manner that they were being attended that caused the bent over recipient such surmounting raptures.

Not wanting to interrupt such a magnetic show of lustful activity, I stayed put. Angling my visual device to see the servicing companion, by now his glistening wet fingers writhed about the center of his lover's posterior. One appeared to have penetrated that orifice up to the knuckle, the recipient's ass now appearing to sway some and reverse back into the digits of flesh and bone that cavorted about there. The middle finger in penetration started to stroke deeper in and out and then the forefinger adjacent to it started applying pressure to the rim of the cavity to allow itself entry. The tissue about the invaded sphincter must have given away, for they both were stroking clasped together in unison. And such it was also with the forefinger of the other hand. The man with the fingers had removed his other hand and placed his forefinger in his mouth. Judging from the movements of his cheek, he must have carefully licked on a substantial blanket of wetness before returning it to his friend's ass. The practitioner's forefinger would counterstroke the movements of the two fingers on the other hand, rendering even louder moans from the recipient.

By now, I could no longer ignore the urgency and inflammation that this spectacularly mesmerizing performance was stimulating beneath my shorts and about my jock strap. My lower torso demanded attention. Zipping down and removing whatever other inhibitions of fabric, I removed my turgid throbbing male parts, now damp with their own effluences to enjoy the warm sun and be swept by the graceful breezes of the summer afternoon. I looked over to my trail mate and he too had withdrawn his swelled arousal. Great minds think alike! His of course was the most statuesque of all present company. Any normal application of autoeroticism to suit the situation was completely impractical now. Any pleasing strokes that we would apply to our throbbing cocks would jilt the tools that enabled us such an irresistible view. In order to remain focused as diligent voyeurs, the best we could do was apply squeezes and tiny strokes about our tender demanding flesh.

By now the bearded man had stood up, one of his hands about the crack of his partner's ass at all times. With his other hand, he spits on his finger and slathers his cock with his own saliva. He then bends over to view the underside of his companion. Still bent over as well, he reaches underneath with his free hand to the end of his lover's cock and digitally robs him of the excitement juices spewing from the pee hole, the lover's nut sac languidly draped over his forearm. Pulling his arm back, the bearded man straightens up and applies the moisture collected on the palm of hand and fingers and applies that to the head and shaft of his cock as well. He then spreads his legs slightly and with his free hand he lines the end of his mushroom top like knobby headed large glans to the crack of his lover's ass, still spread open by the fingers of his other hand. In one quick movement of his hips, he pressures this cock end against the ass of his companion. The bent over man about to be impaled clings desperately to the tree wincing, "Ahhhoooo".

They both step about unsteadily, for this first effort at breach appears to have failed. The bearded man takes one step back, having let go of his cock; he returns his fingers to his mouth applying more saliva to them. He then has both hands back at his lover's ass and appears to be applying the newly derived liquids about the crack. He steps back in place, cock in hand, presumably ready for another attempt. This time, he applies pressure with his flexed hips at the strategic point without interruption, his hands tightly about the waist of the lover whom he was invading.

"Ugghhaaaaaahhhhh!!" The loudest moan yet. We could see the substantial dickhead of the bearded man was now buried in the orifice of his friend. The stiff barrier had given way. Not moving for a few seconds, the bearded man speaks something unintelligible to his penetrated lover. Bent over and clinging about the tree in seeming desperation, he responds by nodding up and down with emphasis. This is the signal for his impaler to begin stroking the ass tunnel with deeper thrusts. They both begin uttering audible grunts. The recipient picks up his head and distinctly yells "harder!" The bearded man increases the pace in and out of his lover. By now his strokes are deep enough to thrust his hilt against his companion's ass. His inordinately thick man bush is cramming the ass cheeks and his own low hanging balls are slapping into the sac of the recipient. The ass propped up by all the steady pummeling is raised in a manner that the invading party must begin to undulate his exceedingly narrow sinuous hips in order to retain the frantic pace of stroking. At the maximum depth of each thrust, both performers utter throaty grunts and groans emanating from their very viscera. Both lovers now look about, open-mouthed, trance like expressions, lost in a haze of euphoric delirium.

In the clandestine audience, populated by two peeping toms, the binoculars could well have become surgically planted extensions from our eye sockets. Completely overwhelmed in fascination, an earthquake could not have wrested those aids away from our faces. We could not lose one second of the breath taking explicit renderings before us, normally conducted in discretion and privacy. The gritty thrustings during the most intimate of human couplings ravishes the bowels of the recipient, finally stimulating him to a turbulent climax. His stretched cock bobs up and down like the baton of a frantic orchestra conductor. At its high point it throbs and squirts out a long streak of sun dazzled jism, much of which strikes the trunk of the tree he clings to.

"Arrrrrgggghhhhh," he groans in his ecstasy. Before he concludes his groan, his fuck buddy begins one. Completely withdrawing his cock from the doubtlessly tight tunnel that housed it, he grabs it giving it one pressured sweeping stroke, shooting out his own first streak of joy juice on the back of his mate now lost in the throes of physical passion. While most of the invader's spasms in ejaculation, discharged about the small of his mate's back and upper ass, the penetrated remained bent over; his over excited cock still flinching up and down in wide sweeps, ever smaller portions of liquid climax spewing from his pee hole. After a minute, they collapsed, rolled over to meet each other, and clung together in intimate embrace.

As an old saying goes, the fat lady had sung. We were now free to drop the artifices required for our observation and attend to our own urgent needs of male physical release. Watching Bob intently stroke about his awesome phallus, I required less than a half dozen strokes to force the tension and sweet heat of my loins through my groin, the base of my dick, the shaft of my cock, and finally released through my expanded pee hole in a splash of warm white earthily aromatic liquid. Resting for a minute, we slowly and surreptitiously gathered our effects. Again, aspiring to Indian style grace, we retreated in attempted silence, but when looking back, I noticed that we must have made some noise to alert them of our presence. They both were still on the ground but had covered themselves with clothes, distressingly looking about the terrain, presumably to discern the source of the noise.

Back on the main trail, we excitedly celebrated our good fortune by recounting our impressions of what we saw. We laughed and joked, accusing each other of comically lewd responses. "I saw you with those binoculars glued to your face," my trail mate uttered accusingly. "Your cock was bouncing around under your little shorts, I thought you were going to cum right then and there. I nearly wrecked the whole show. I was going to shout out, 'Blonde, whip it out man. Let it loose!' Then you finally had the sense to remove the damn thing on your own."

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Epilogue

In the SUV, when my excursion friend drove me back to the ranch that evening he was despondent. He tried to think up an account of our social exchange, radically different from actuality to recount to his girlfriend. "Anne, least of all, should know little about what really went on." I suggested he tell her that I kept asking about the ranch routine and inquired about my uncle's business. This was partly true. He told me that he thinks Anne might have enjoyed the unexpected intrusion on the gay sex, but he believes it was much more fun to watch it with me. We both laughed as we tried to imagine what her reaction would have been to his follow-up bout of masturbatory frenzy. Before reaching the long drive on the ranch grounds when there was no other traffic, he slowed down the car, and kissed me full on the lips. Before we opened any vehicular doors at the ranch house, we embraced in a warm hug, unobserved in the night darkness.

Just as I had alerted Bob, the remainder of the week was absorbed in close consultation with my uncle. I was carefully demonstrating to him the software operation and explaining how his business data integrated with its design and operation. I had given Bob my web based e-mail address, so he was able to send me messages describing how he was relating to his girlfriend and what he decided to tell her about me. As expected, he wrote that he missed me and especially missed my attentions to his sensation hungry cock.

I elaborated on a topic I had already discussed during one of our nude evenings together. I explained that many different `personals' web-sites could be researched where he would be matched with any number of willing and ready cocksuckers just about anywhere in the country. The next Saturday afternoon, I had my little car packed and ready for my return home. I planned my departure to coincide with Bob's conclusion from work for the weekend. He rode with me as far as in town.

"I don't want to meet up with just any cocksucker. I want a blond who will be fanatical about it like you." I told him when I returned home, we would refine our search to seek out just the right cock man. We hugged many times as I pulled into the parking lot of his rustic landscaped apartment building. He pleaded with me to make plans to return as soon as I could.

"Blonde, I promise you that I will do the best I can to find a swimming hole before you come back. I may have to search pretty far a field, but I promise it will be a swimming hole we both would enjoy."

That is my story: the story of my favorite conquest. I hope you are now convinced that I am a connoisseur of cock. On this occasion, I was able to savor a connoisseur's feast.