Gay Erotic Stories

Lonnie liked going over there. Marvin had a big screen and cable, the computer with internet access, the well stocked refrigerator and snack cabinet. At his house, Lonnie had two younger brothers and a sister that was grossly pregnant and a pissed-off mother and a drunk for a dad … what was to like?

So Lonnie wasn’t surprised the first time Marvin grabbed his dick. It was a playful, joking thing, nothing serious. Likewise, Marvin wasn’t surprised when Lonnie slapped his hand away and muttered, “Forget it!” Marvin would have been surprised if he didn’t.

But the game was on. They both knew it. Thing was, Lonnie liked Marvin. He really did. He admired him. Hell, Marvin was a pretty successful guy. He had his own place and lots of toys, no family problems, a good job, a nice truck. If the man wasn’t gay he’d probably hate him. Lonnie couldn’t hold down a steady job for long, his car stayed broke down, he had no social life, a bitch of a home life… he had shit.

Marvin cheered him up, kept telling him how good he looked, how bright he was, how he’d make it later… everybody gets down times, right? Lonnie needed to hear that and so he didn’t tease Marvin about being gay. No fag jokes, no subtle put downs. He was paying for the privilege of friendship (and TV and movie collection and AOL and beer and Fritos and any other loose food).

Still, Lonnie had this straight cock … Marvin wanted it. He wasn't even sure why. Just like the guy climbing the mountain because it’s there, right? Any straight dick that seems the least available and Marvin's hooked. Lonnie was pretty cute, too. He wasn't a prime specimen, no, but he was tall, well proportioned, thick rather than built. He had a short, neat nose and kinda sad blue eyes and close cropped, light brown hair. Marvin really liked his heavy duty jaw and massive neck... and liked the way his ears looked like a little boy's, small and pink and delicate. But Lonnie's best feature, no doubt, was the way his cock swung under his jeans, promising a thick and heavy tool.

So Lonnie took full advantage of Marvin's hospitality and Marvin felt fully justified in grabbing at his dick every once in a while, just to keep his reflexes up. Lonnie got to where he didn’t jump when it happened, just sighed and brushed Marvin off. Marvin never persisted, just copped a quick feel and laughed at the inevitable reaction. Lonnie got used to it. He took it for granted as his salute, an acknowledgement of his attractiveness. Sometimes he actually grinned when Marvin did it, still, he shoved the hand away.

Neither one took it seriously in the beginning, just a head game, that’s all. Then came the watershed event. They’d just finished watching some movie, Memento, maybe … and they sat on the couch side by side and argued about the plot and the devices. Marvin was turned to Lonnie with his hand on his knee. Lonnie was wearing baggy khaki shorts. Marvin touched him a lot, it wasn’t unusual. Lonnie mostly ignored it unless the touch got near his crotch. This time, though, they were pretty heated, both talking at the same time and getting louder and Marvin was slapping at his thigh and right beneath the surface of the argument he realized he could slip his hand right up inside Lonnie's shorts! His hand was right there, Lonnie's thigh was right there. He did it while Lonnie talked, diverted. He went in, sliding his palm right up the inside of the muscular thigh and into the warm crotch, cupping the bulk of Lonnie's soft cock to his leg through his boxer shorts. Lonnie slapped at the hand but he was so involved in making his point he was slow to react. Slow and ineffective. Marvin just held him still, not fumbling around, never stopped his ranting and persistent refutation of his version of the movie’s merits. Lonnie used his hands to talk … he gestured, he waved his hands, he slapped at Marvin's grasp, again … still not totally focused on the touch. Lonnie was numbed from the many earlier attempts. At last Marvin felt a response. A full thirty seconds after Marvin had become totally erect (and dripping wet), Lonnie's cock twitched a tiny little reflex in his palm. Lonnie noticed, finally! He laughed.

“Dammit! Stop! Get your hand out of there, that’s enough … let go!” He shoved at Marvin's wrist, lodged inside his shorts. “Jesus, you finally got a feel! Okay, that’s enough, now!” His voice got a little bluff, tensed.

Marvin laughed, too. It was funny, after all this time, you know? A little exhilarating, right? Marvin drew back his hand a few inches and Lonnie relaxed. Marvin always gave up without protest before. But then he plunged back, slipping his fingers up inside Lonnie's boxers, grabbing bare skin, gripping his cock as it began to thicken in his hot fingers. He slid the skin back and forth in a quick jerk off move and the cock throbbed, pulsed to life, a hot hard bone suddenly filled his hand! That’s when Lonnie grabbed his wrist and shoved him away with a little too much sudden force.

“Stop it, goddammit! You know I don’t like that shit!” His tone of anger was forced, harsh.

“Yeah, right!” Marvin turned bitter queen in a heartbeat. The sarcasm foamed from his chin. “That’s why you got hard as a rock, right? Because you don’t like it? You’re a chicken shit, Lonnie. Scared of a fucking wet dream!” Marvin got up and swirled out of the room, slammed the bathroom door. Hey, he's a fag, he's got a right to a little drama. Besides, he was really charged up, like for real! God damn, that was a big ol’ cock and it was right there in his sweaty little palm! Fuckin’ Aye, he was pissed!

So Marvin washed his face, took a leak best he could under the circumstances, and went back on stage. Lonnie was at the refrigerator, doing his best “nothing happened”. Straight guys are good at denial. “So, you want another beer?” He offered Marvin a bottle.

“No, I had enough, man. Tomorrow's Friday. I gotta work, you know? I gotta get to bed, I need some sleep…” Marvin could play, too, like: nothing happened but I’m kicking you out, right?

“Huh? It’s early, Marv! Come on, you not pissed, are you? I didn’t meant to get rough, shouldn’t have shoved you so hard ... I’m sorry, okay?” Little-boy-sorry.

“Me? Pissed? You kidding?” Marvin played it sad. “Just tired, man. Get out, leave me to my moods, okay?”

Lonnie gave him the look, the screwed up face, the wrinkled brow, like he don’t understand. Marvin patted his shoulder, patronizing, forgiving, but shoving him towards the door. Lonnie tried to explain, “Look, man… I told you, you know I don’t go for …”

“Yeah, don’t tell me again! Please. I got it, okay? Just go. I’m tired, Lonnie. Really, really tired.”

“Tired of me?” Little grin, a plea in his face, a genuine apology, as genuine as Lonnie can be.

“Maybe tired of you and me both, man. I got to get out more, meet some new friends. Sorry if I pressured you. Forget it, okay? My bad. I just been cooped up with you too long, got to thinking you could laugh about it, have fun with it. You still scared, though. Always will be … I can’t change you, ain’t gonna try…”

“I’m not scared, dude! I just don’t go for that stuff, you know! I never done nothing like that …I...”

“Yeah, right, whatever, man. Waste of breath, I know. Maybe you can live without sex but I get horny. I got big nuts. I’m busting with sperm, gotta dump it some time. Now, you gonna leave or you gonna stay and watch me jerk off?” Marvin punched his shoulder. Lonnie laughed, surprised. They’d never talked about masturbation but both of them were living without a regular partner.

Lonnie stared at him, laughed again. “You really gonna jerk off, just ’cause of that?”

“Hell yeah! First dick I've had in my hand in a month! Now, go! Go home and jerk yours while I’m jerking mine. That way at least we’ll be having sex together.” Marvin laughed, it was funny.

“But I wanted to watch Cheers, man!” Now Lonnie whines, hates to leave while there’s still beer left in the box.

“Yours felt as big as mine, Lonnie.” Marvin watched his face redden. “You’re cut, like me, and long and thick. I never met another white guy with one big as mine… what do you hang? About nine, ten inches?”

“I don’t know, man! Don’t start that shit!” Lonnie flushed, finally turned to the door. “I guess I better go, for real.” He paused. Marvin pushed his back.

“That’s a fact, Lonnie. Take it easy, man. See ya.” He literally pushed him out the door and shut it as the big guy turned back to say something else. "Whew!" Marvin thought. "I have to have that big dick, now. Holy shit! Argue with him? Beg, plead? Not my style. Put a mickey in his drink?" He considered it, yeah.

Next day Marvin got home and began peeling off his work clothes and at the usual time Lonnie came knocking. He went to the door in his boxers.

“That you, Lon?” He called through the door.

“Yeah, put on some pants!” Lonnie's usual comment on his undressed state.

Marvin opened the door and walked away. He called back over his shoulder. “Grab a beer if you want but you can’t stay. I’m heading right back out after I shower.” He dropped his shorts in the bedroom, went into the bathroom and adjusted the water in the shower.

Lonnie came to the bedroom door, leaned against the jamb and opened a beer. “You going back out?”

Marvin didn’t expect him to come in there, he never did before. “I'm going to meet some guys from work, at the Red Rooster.” He kept his back turned as he stepped into the shower.

Lonnie called something else. Marvin slid the door open a little, “Can’t hear you, wait ‘til I get out,” he closed the door.

When Marvin stepped out of the shower Lonnie was still waiting at the bedroom door. Marvin grabbed a towel. Lonnie came on over to the bathroom door as he dried off. Marvin kept his back turned.

“Red Rooster, that’s out by the Greenland strip mall, right?” Lonnie sounded a little tense, not at ease.

“Yeah, by the bowling alley. I've never been there but the guys say it’s pretty good. Pool tables, karaoke, you know. Lots of singles, blue collar, country western … maybe I’ll meet somebody. Cross your fingers I’ll get lucky.” Lonnie had to step aside so Marvin could get past him. He kept the towel around him, found shorts, socks.

“You coming back late, huh? It's Friday, Vindicator comes on at twelve thirty.” Ever the TV addict, Lonnie frowned.

“Hope I’m not coming home at all, man! I need to hook up, you know?” Marvin made a jerk off motion with his fist, grinned. “I’m getting blisters from hanging out with you!”

“Hey, nice sweater! This new?” Lonnie picked up the blue cashmere sweater from the bed.

“Nawh, just haven’t worn it in a while.” Marvin slid his boxers on, up under his towel, dropped it and put on socks. Lonnie sat on the bed beside him.

“Good luck, Marv. I hope you meet somebody, really.” He pat a bare shoulder. First time Marvin could ever remember the guy touching him voluntarily. “You want a beer? I’ll get you one …”

“Thanks, but no time, man.” He pulled on his jeans, stepped into his boots. “I’m already running late, most of the guys go straight from work. I wanted to change.” He pulled the sweater over his head.

“You look nice, man. You’ll do okay!” Lonnie pronounced. “But comb your hair, again, it’s all messed up.”

“Don’t matter; the wind will blow it anyway…”

“You leaving already?” Lonnie stood up.

“Yeah, sorry to rush you but …”

“Okay, that’s okay.” Lonnie walked him out to his truck. “Have a good time … If you don’t hook up, come in early... I’ll come over, all right?”

“Yeah, sure, man. Later.” Marvin left him waving in the driveway.

It was crowded, loud, oppressive and depressing. In less than an hour Marvin remembered why he hated bars. No chance to really get to know anyone, everybody acted “on” anyway, nobody being themselves. Professional football seemed to be the subject of all conversation, no single mention of movies or books. No one in the place wanted to be thought of as a couch potato. "Dammit", he thought, "I liked couches!" Stupid music, jerky dancing, too much cologne. He got a headache. He drank, seriously.

The motel room was clean in an antiseptic sort of way, too clean to be real. His nervous pick-up didn't stay long. The guy was gone by eleven. The room was bright and beige and tan. It was cool. It was quiet. He couldn’t go home and wait for Lonnie to come over, right? He drank some more, a lot more. He slept until noon, woke up wondering how much to tell Lonnie when he asked. He would surely ask. He got home around one. Lonnie was knocking by one fifteen.

“Hey, Marv! Happy Saturday!” Lonnie was peppy. Marvin didn’t need peppy. His depression deepened to the sever black level.

“Hi, Lonnie. Look, I had a long night, man. I just want to shower and nap … not really in the mood for company …”

“Got lucky, huh?” Lonnie laughed, wriggled his eyebrows.

“I got some dick, yeah. Not sure how lucky I was. The guy was a jerk, okay? He drives for Boyd Brothers, cross country. Good looking in a trailer park kind of way, not as cute as he thinks. Big shoulders, though, long legs … must be six four at least.”

“Yeah?” Lonnie was grinning, curious but embarrassed by the subject. “Well, glad you got some, anyway. Maybe you’ll cheer up, huh?”

Marvin sighed, “Yeah. I’ll cheer up if he calls this evening, but he won’t. He was in a hurry to get gone. Straight guys don’t like to remember, you know? They like to get their nut and then stone amnesia! He was a lot like you, Lonnie …” Marvin squinted at him as he flushed. “Just a little more brass. So totally involved in himself he couldn’t see the people around him! He didn’t do anything but lay back and hook his hands behind his head. What do I need that for? He stroked my dick about two seconds and wanted me to say thanks for that! Shit!”

“I don’t get it …?” Lonnie screwed up his face. “You fucked him or what? If he was straight? But …?”

“Hell, no. I didn’t fuck him, Lonnie! Why do you ask? You don’t really want to know. This is giving you the creeps. I'm sorry, forget it. My problem, not yours. Go watch TV, I’m hitting the shower. I might watch a little before I go back to sleep. I’m tired but, you know? Restless? Depressed, I guess.”

Lonnie chuckled, “You’re hung over, dude! Yeah, a shower will help. Then a couple of beers will put you right! Been there, man! I think the Cowboys are starting in a few minutes … you don’t mind if I turn it on, for real?”

“Hell no … go on. Tell you the truth; it cheers me up a little just to see you. Glad you came over. Sure, keep me company a little while. Leave me alone and I’ll probably slash my wrists or something.” Marvin grinned to show he was kidding. Lonnie could be sort of literal minded.

“Oh, okay, yeah.” Lonnie studied Marv's face. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me for a while, after the other night, you know? …”

More apology? Marvin was surprised. “Forget it". He told him. "I got no right to get pissed at you. It’s your dick. You say when and where and who … Its your property. You can keep your toys all to yourself if you want to. Sorry if I scared you … and about it getting hard? That’s okay, it’s normal. Don’t mean nothing. Any dick gets hard when somebody grabs it. Don’t matter who it is. It’s the touch, not the toucher that does it. Your dick don’t care who gets it off!” Marvin shrugged, sighed. “You’ll figure it out someday. Don’t worry about it …”

“Hey, time for the kick-off!” Lonnie looked towards the TV.

Marvin didn’t even try. He just turned, abruptly, and headed for the bathroom.

Continued in part 2 ...