Gay Erotic Stories

School was a drag, but I did the best I could given the circumstances. One of the high school coaches took pity on me and made sure I was able to participate in sports. As a result, I had a fairly decent body by the time I graduated.

And speaking of which, graduation was on a Saturday, which coincidently was my eighteenth birthday. And would you believe it, my parents were too drunk to attend the ceremony! Several people asked as to their whereabouts, and of course I lied and made up some story. After the ceremony, a bunch of us guys got together and had a few beers. It was almost midnight when I arrived home. My folks were passed out on the living room couch, with the television on--but no sound. I promptly went to my room.

As I drifted off to sleep, it was clear that I must take control of my life. I then hatched a plan.

At about 4 am, I awoke and started to pack. Not wanting to make a bunch of noise, I skipped a shower, but quietly brushed my teeth and put on some clothes. I retrieved the money I had saved from working summer jobs, and stashed it in my pocket. There was about $500 … not a lot, but it would at least get me somewhere. It then occurred to me … the liquor money. I knew my folks kept an “emergency fund” in the kitchen, but wasn’t sure where. I pondered where one would keep a secret fund.

Quietly going to the kitchen, I noted my folks had gone to their bedroom, which was the typical routine. Get drunk, pass out, wake up, and go to bed. Some life, don’t you think? Once in the kitchen, I looked around in the semi-darkness. I opened several canisters on the counter, but no luck. The upper cabinets housed nothing but dishes and the lower cabinets had a bunch of pots and pans. Where would someone hide money?

I was about to give up when it occurred to me that sometimes people keep valuables in the freezer compartment. Saw it in a movie one time. Quietly opening the freezer, I looked around but didn’t see anything that might hold the liquor money. Then I spotted it. And it was so obvious. A rather worn box of frozen green beans was half open, sitting near the back of the freezer. I grabbed the box and opened it slowly. Jackpot! There was over $300, which I stuffed into my pocket. Better get the fuck out of Dodge!

Quietly, I left the house with a small suitcase and the money. I knew there was a bus that left from downtown about 6 am, although I didn’t have a clue as to its destination. By the time I arrived downtown, the sun was just beginning to rise. The bus station was closed, so I had a seat on the outdoor bench. There was no activity downtown, except for a few cars now and then. I then heard the bus, as it rounded the corner and pulled up to the station. The door opened right before me.

“Where ya going, son?”

“Ah … don’t know, sir. Where’s this bus heading?”

“California,” replied the bus driver.

“Ah … OK … how much?”

“$74.50 … correct change, too.”

“Yeah, OK.” I climbed on board, handed the man $74.50, and took a seat near the back. There were about 15 other people on the bus. The driver stepped off momentarily, but then immediately returned, fired up the bus, and took off. If I ever saw this dump of a town again, it would be too soon.

Two and a half days later, the bus pulled into San Diego. The trip had given me some time to think about my life, and what I wanted to do. Exiting the bus, I felt the warm California sun hit my face. I lit a cigarette and started walking, really without a clue as to where I was going.

Several blocks from the bus station, I spotted a motel that was sporting a neon “vacancy” sign. Might as well get some rest. I entered the office.

“Help ya?” The clerk was a middle-aged guy who apparently forgot to shave that day.

“Ah … need a room, please.”

“That’ll be $85 … three day minimum.” Well, a bit pricey, but I pulled out $85 and handed it over. This must be a no-tell motel. No need to register.

“Room 7 son … it’s in the rear.” I thanked the gentlemen and headed to room 7.

The room was small, but clean. I locked the door, stripped naked, and took a shower. Nearly three days on the bus had taken a toll on my body. After showering, I shaved and put on some clean clothes. It was nearly 7 pm and I was hungry. I headed out and found a burger place down the street. Walking back to the motel, I passed a convenience store. Better get some cigarettes. And maybe I could buy some beer. Walking into the store, I grabbed a few bottles of malt liquor and confidently walked to the counter. “Two packs of Marlboro, please.” The clerk grabbed the cigarettes, rang up my purchases, and put everything into a sack. “$10.95, please.” Another customer was becoming agitated for some reason. I quickly handed the clerk $11, to which he gave me a nickel and told me to “come back soon.” I quickly made an exit.

Back at the motel room, I drank the two malt liquors and smoked some cigarettes while watching television. Finally, I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I headed out to get some breakfast. This time, I headed the other direction. Walking back to the motel, I passed a military recruitment office. Slowing down, I peered in the window. They didn’t open until 10 am, so there was no activity. I walked several more blocks, pondering what I’d just saw. The military just might be a solution to my problems.

That afternoon, I wandered down to the recruitment center … you know, just to get some information. I was actually somewhat nervous. Entering the office, I looked around at the material located near the front. I suspect it was all propaganda.

“May I help you, son?” There was a very large black guy, dressed in a snappy uniform. I didn’t know his rank.

“Just looking, sir.”

“You thinking about joining up, son?”

“Maybe … give me some information.” He offered me a seat and went over several options that I could consider. It would be a four-year commitment and an opportunity for advancement.

“You really won’t regret your decision, son. What do you think?” He really wasn’t being pushy, but I needed to think about it and told him so.

“That’s fine son, but in the meantime, why don’t you take a few tests to determine your acceptability. OK?”

“Yeah … sure, sir … that’d be okay.”

He gave me about ten pages of paper, and put me in a cubicle with several pencils. “Take your time, son … there’s no hurry.” I flipped through the pages. It was all multiple choice questions, most of which had to do with stuff I’d learned in high school. After about 40 minutes, I returned the test to the recruitment officer.

“Well son, let’s take a look.” He quickly pulled out the master and hurriedly went through the pages.

“You passed son … now then, are you ready to sign-up?”

“Ah … yeah, I guess. What’s next?”

“Well, your timing is perfect. I have a group being inducted tomorrow. You’ll need to be here at the recruitment station precisely at 7 am.” The recruitment officer pulled out a bunch of forms for me to sign. Then he sat me down and started to ask some questions.

“Okay son, several questions before we make this final. Are you on any type of medication?”

“No sir.”

“Have you ever used recreational drugs?”

“No sir.” That was a lie; it’d been a while.

“Have you ever been convicted of a felony?”

“No sir.” That was the truth.

“And one last question we must ask. Have you ever engaged in a homosexual act?”

“Ah … no sir.” That was also the truth if you don’t count the time several of us guys had a circle jerk and stuck a dildo up our butts … just for the fun of it.

“Okay son, see you tomorrow morning!” I hurried back to the motel, wondering what’d I just done. Oh well, let’s look at this as an adventure.

That evening I headed to the convenience store for some more cigarettes and malt liquor. After downing the two bottles of beer, I took a shower and settled into bed. It then occurred to me … they probably don’t let you jack off in boot camp … better pop a nut, as it might be the last one for some time. I shut off the light and started masturbating. Fifteen minutes later, I blew my load and wiped off with the sheets. I’m sure the motel people had seen worse.

The next morning, I jumped out of bed and grabbed a quick shower. Knowing the military would furnish everything, I discarded everything but what I’d be wearing that day. I kept my shaving kit, but ditched my worn suitcase and other clothes in the dumpster near the back of the motel. As I left the room, I stopped by the office to ask for a refund of the one night I wouldn’t be using. The clerk at first said no, but when I told him I was joining the military, he decided to refund my money.

I quickly walked down the street to the recruitment center. There was already a bunch of guys congregated and talking to one another. I joined the group. Several minutes later, a large bus pulled up and the recruitment officer came out from the building, again, all dressed up in a snappy uniform. I was going to look like that someday.

“Okay men, climb on board.” The adventure begins.

About forty minutes later, the bus pulls into the military base. A group of three military men were waiting for us. One climbed onboard the bus.

“Okat men, get off the fuck’n bus … and hurry up about it!” Mercy, this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

We all stood in front of the bus, as one of the corporals kept shouting instructions. Do this! Don’t do that! Finally, the corporal escorted us inside the base, were we were taken to a large empty room. Everyone was instructed to drop what belongings they had brought with them and “prepare for a haircut!” I had short hair anyway, so this didn’t necessarily alarm me.

It took about fifteen minutes for the group to have their heads shaved clean. We all looked rather silly. The group was then escorted back to the large room, where we collected our belongings and were escorted a barracks. It was all rather impersonal.

“OK MEN! STAND AT ATTENTION!” It was our drill sergeant. It was then that I decided a big mistake had been made. But I was now committed. At least I was out of my hometown and on my own.

“NOW THEN MEN, LISTEN UP!” I couldn’t figure out why he was shouting.

“THERE ARE SEVERAL RULES THAT YOU MUST FOLLOW! FIRST, WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION THAT REQUIRES A YES OR NO ANSWER, YOU WILL RESPOND ‘SIR, YES SIR!’ OR ‘SIR, NO SIR!’ DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?”

“SIR, YES SIR!” I think the sergeant was impressed the group actually responded in unison.

‘SECOND, THERE WILL BE NO TALKING WHEN I AM IN YOUR PRESENCE. DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO! DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?”

“SIR, YES SIR!” I do believe we got that part.

“AND THIRD, THERE WILL BE NO MASTURBATING YOURSELF … OR ANYONE ELSE FOR THAT MATTER! IF YOU ARE CAUGHT MASTURBATING, YOU WILL BE PUNISHED! DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?”

“SIR, YES SIR!” Well this was going to be a problem. Good thing I jacked off last night.

“And one other thing gentlemen,” The sergeant had calmed down. “If you violate any of these rules or any other rules I happen to make up along the way, you will be disciplined. Punishment will occur every Friday night after chow. DOES EVERYONE UNDERSTAND?”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

Well thank god that was over. The sergeant then marched us all to noon chow, after which we headed back to the barracks to be outfitted with uniforms.

During the first week, I had amazingly adapted to military life. Our sergeant was a mean bastard, but his assistant, the corporal, was worse. Several of the recruits were disciplinary problems, and the sergeant and corporal were apparently keeping track of every infraction although nothing major had been done about it. Every so often, the corporal would hand out push-ups to men who fucked up during the day, but that was about the extent of any discipline, until the Friday evening of the first week.

Our group had just returned from chow and settled into the barracks. Some of the men were shining their shoes and belt buckles; others were horsing around and still others had started a card game. Suddenly and without warning, the sergeant came storming into the barracks, slapping a ping-pong paddle against his hand. Everyone snapped to attention.

“OK MEN, IT IS NOW TIME FOR SOME DISCIPILINE!” The sergeant was shouting, which was his usual custom. “EVERYONE WHO HAS DEMERITS, STEP FORWARD!”

Fortunately, I had escaped the wrath of the sergeant that week, although others had not. Five recruits stepped forward for what was to be obvious punishment.

“COME HERE, ALL OF YOU!” shouted the sergeant to one of the offenders. Quickly, the recruits stepped forward, standing in front of the sergeant.

“ALL YOU MEN TURN AROUND, DROP YOUR PANTS, BEND OVER, AND GRAB YOUR ANKLES!” I think my fellow recruits were about to get whacked with a ping-pong paddle. The recruits followed instructions, with his pants around his ankles and butt apparently ready for the punishment.

“AND THE UNDERSHORTS TOO, ASSHOLES!” The victims immediately stood up, dropped their shorts and resumed the position.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! I could practically smell damaged flesh.

“NEXT!” shouted the sergeant. So the process repeated itself four more times, resulting in some very sore butts. The following day (Saturday), the corporal marched us back from morning chow and lined everyone up in front of the barracks.

“OK MEN! LISTEN UP! This morning I will be assigning work parties. COUNT OFF IN FIVES!” Once that exercise was accomplished, the corporal assigned each group a task. There was litter patrol next to and around the barracks, weed patrol in the field surrounded by the track, KP (where I believe you had the pleasure of washing all the dishes from morning chow), and barracks patrol. Unfortunately, I was assigned to barracks patrol, which entailed cleaning the barracks and bathrooms where the entire military could eat off the floor. One of my buddies, a guy named Goodman, and I were assigned to clean the sergeant’s quarters.

Once assignments were made, Goodman and I headed up to the sergeant’s quarters and began our duties. Some of the other guys were cleaning the general quarters and restrooms used by the troops. The sergeant had not been seen since Friday night discipline, so Goodman and I decided he took off for the weekend, leaving the asshole corporal in charge. Goodman grabbed the cleaning equipment from the locker, while I made an assessment of the job to be done.

“Looks pretty clean to me, Coup.”

“Yeah … while the sergeant is a true asshole, he doesn’t seem to spread much dirt.” Goodman took the sleeping section, while I attacked the bathroom.

“Hey Goodman! Come here!” I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Look!”

“Holy shit!” replied Goodman, staring at the shower stall. There was a gob of what looked like pubic hair stuck in the drain.

“Jesus! I didn’t come here to clean this shit!”

“Well, best get with it Coup … I suppose the corporal will be doing an inspection.”

While Goodman returned to his cleaning, I was able to get the shower spotless, having flushed all the sergeant’s pubic hair down the toilet. I tried to picture the sergeant “hairless.”

Just as I was finishing up, Goodman announced he too had completed what he thought was a stellar job. And then he added, “Hey Coup … you want to jack off?”

“Are you fucking kidding pal … you know what the sergeant said.”

“Yeah … but he sergeant ain’t here … and besides, if I don’t pop a nut in the next thirty minutes, there’s a possibility my dick might turn on me.

“Man … I’m with you … it’s been over a week since I jacked off. But what if we get caught?”

“We ain’t going to get caught Coup … that dumb ass corporal is probably over at the track supervising the weed patrol.”

“Well … okay … but let’s make it quick!” Both Goodman and I stayed in the bathroom to perform our respective masturbations. I was a bit uncomfortable dropping my pants and boxers in front of another man, but reminded myself that this wasn’t the first time, recalling the high school circle jerk.

Both Goodman and I got hard right away and starting stroking our dicks. “Don’t cum on my clean floor, Goodman!” He nodded and kept stroking. I figured we both would cum in rather rapid fashion given the “down time” both of us had endured. Then Goodman spoke.

“Hey Coup … you want to suck my dick?”

“Are you fuck’in kidding Goodman?” I temporarily stopped stroking my cock, dumbstruck by such a suggestion, although I had been intrigued by the notion several years ago when one of my high school classmates had been caught sucking off the basketball coach (he was fired and left town in disgrace).

“Oh come on pal … it won’t hurt you, and besides, it will bond us together as one.”

I decided to give it a try. Dropping to my knees, I gently lifted Goodman’s cock and placed it in my mouth. With one hand, I was sucking a dick … the other hand was servicing myself. Goodman started to moan.

“Yeah … suck that dick Coup … suck that fuck’n dick!” I looked up and saw Goodman’s head jerk backwards several times. It was apparent he was enjoying himself. In the meantime, I felt myself about to loose control and stopped momentarily to unload a pile of cum … unfortunately on my clean floor.

“Keep sucking, Coup … I’m almost there!”

“Don’t cum in my mouth you bastard!”

Goodman and I were so consumed in our “bonding” we were oblivious to any other activities. And then it happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING?” It was the corporal. We had been caught! This was going to be nothing but trouble. “STAND AT ATTENTION YOU FAGGOTS!” So there we were, standing half naked in the sergeant’s bathroom, in obviously serious trouble.

“PULL YOUR FUCKING PANTS UP!” Both Goodman and I complied immediately. Goodman still had a hard on and there was still my cum on the floor.

“NOW FINISH YOUR JOB IN HERE! I’LL DEAL WITH YOU FAGGOTS LATER!” The corporal stormed out of the sergeant’s quarters. Goodman and I looked at each other in total disbelief, wondering what would befall us.

That afternoon after chow, there was no scheduled activity so most of the guys were shooting the shit or playing cards. Goodman and I were quietly talking in a corner, wondering again when the ax would fall.

Saturday came and went, with no sign of the corporal. Goodman and I figured we’d be punished on the following Friday with the ping-pong paddle. Hopefully it would not become public knowledge that I been sucking a cock.

By Sunday afternoon, Goodman and I had pretty much forgotten the entire incident, and there was still no sign of the corporal. Until about 1600 hours, and over the loud speaker it came. “COOPER AND GOODMAN … REPORT TO THE SERGEANT’S OFFICE! ON THE DOUBLE!” Shit! This must be it!

Goodman and I hurried down to the sergeant’s office and lightly knocked on the door.

“ENTER!” I opened the door, allowing Goodman to enter first. There sat the sergeant behind a desk, with the corporal standing by his side.

“Well gentleman, I understand you were having some fun in my private restroom. IS THAT TRUE?” The sergeant looked pissed.

“SIR, YES SIR!”

“You know men, I could have you thrown out of the military … you do understand that, don’t you?

“SIR, YES SIR!” I didn’t much care, but I knew Goodman would be disgraced, given the fact his entire family was in the military … grandfather, father, and brothers.

“But I think you two can be salvaged. What do you think your punishment should be?” Goodman and I looked at each other … and then I spoke.

“Ah sir … that would be up to you … sir.”

“YES IT WOULD, YOU FAGGOTS!” The sergeant looked at the corporal, stood up, opened a desk drawer, and retrieved two ping-pong paddles. It looks like Goodman and I are about to be paddled.

“NOW GET YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES OFF … ALL OF THEM … NOW!” Goodman and I quickly stripped down to our boxers.

“THE SHORTS TOO, ASSHOLES!” So there we stood, buck-naked before the sergeant and corporal. The sergeant had handed one of the ping-pong paddles to the corporal.

“NOW TURN AROUND AND BEND OVER!” Here it comes … this was probably going to hurt.

WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! The sound of two ping-pong paddles on two bear butts was like a freight train. And suddenly, the punishment stopped.

“TURN AROUND … STAND UP!” Goodman and I turned around and faced our superiors. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Goodman and started to get a hard on.

“Well corporal, what other punishment would you recommend?”

“Sergeant, it’s obvious these two soldiers are queer. Perhaps they could demonstrate their talents … on us, sergeant.”

“Keep going, corporal.”

“Well … perhaps we should re-arrange their plumbing.”

“Mmmm … that sounds like an excellent idea!” I hadn’t a clue as to what they were taking about. “But before we do that, maybe they’d like to suck our dicks.”

“Yeah, sergeant … I haven’t had my dick sucked for several weeks!”

“OK MEN! DROP TO YOUR KNEES!” Goodman and I did as instructed, as the sergeant and corporal took their position before us and dropped their pants and boxers.

“Now, suck it, private!” The sergeant shoved his cock into my mouth, while the corporal did likewise to Goodman.

“SUCK IT, PRIVATE!” The sergeant’s dick began to expand, as I continued to give the second blowjob of my life. “KEEP SUCKING, YOU ASSHOLE!” I picked up the pace, as the sergeant grabbed my skull with both hands and shoved his dick further into my month, practically choking me.

Several minutes passed, as the sergeant kept jamming his cock down my throat.

“Suck that dick, private! Suck harder!” The sergeant then started to moan, as his dick started to throb in my now sore mouth. Then it occurred to me. The sergeant was going to cum down my throat!

“HERE IT COMES, PRIVATE! NOW SUCK IT!” A massive dose of cum was released from the sergeant’s dick. I continued to suck, but then started to choke, as cum started to drip from my mouth. The sergeant then pulled his still erect dick from my mouth, gabbed his with his right hand, and shook what remaining cum remained on the floor.

Almost at the same time, the corporal had unloaded into Goodman’s mouth. “SUCK IT DRY, PRIVATE!” Goodman gave it several more licks. We were then both ordered to stand up and get dressed. The sergeant and corporal by now had composed themselves.

“NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE … BOTH OF YOU!” By now I had realized what ‘rearrange your plumbing’ meant, which we had apparently escaped that punishment.

As Goodman and I returned to the barracks, it occurred to me that perhaps I might just be queer. Goodman then apologized for getting us in so much trouble.

“I’m sorry Coup … didn’t mean to fuck things up.”

“Yeah … that’s okay … the problem is I’m so horny now, my balls are about to bust.”

“Same here, Coup … I give anything to jack off.”

“Forget it, Goodman … we get caught one more time, I do believe the sergeant and corporal will indeed rearrange our plumbing.

Week 10 arrived, which meant it was time for graduation. There was an air of excitement, as the troops packed their sea bags. Most everyone was going home for a brief leave of absence; I had elected to stay in the San Diego area, having been assigned to a training base not far away.

Goodman’s flight home was delayed one day, so the both of us took a cab to the motel I had originally stayed at upon my arrival in California. The first thing we did was take a shower (individually), apparently in an attempt to wash off the “military” which had built up over the past ten weeks.

Goodman was last in the shower, as I relaxed on one of the beds in my boxers. I was watching some soap opera on television.

Goodman emerged from the shower, with a towel wrapped around his now toned body.

“Hey Coup, you want to jack off?” Sounded good to me. Goodman and I lay side by side on the bed, now fully naked, jacking off. Goodman and I had about the same size dick with one exception: I had not been circumcised. As we jacked off together, Goodman reached over, grabbed my cock, and continued jacking me off. I did the same to Goodman. We looked at each other, in silence.

“You think we’re queer, Goodman?”

“Gnaw … just horny, Coup.” Several minutes went by, when Goodman offered to suck my dick.

“Sure …why not?” Goodman grabbed my cock and began sucking, slowly at first and then much faster. It didn’t take long to reach ‘that feeling.’

“Goodman! Stop! I’m about to cum!” Goodman kept sucking, as I flexed my legs in an attempt to delay ejaculation. “Here it comes!” I unloaded directly into Goodman’s mouth, which he methodically sucked me dry.

Goodman still had a hard on, while my dick had retreated to a reasonably normal state. Goodman looked me straight in the eye, as if to be saying something. Then it occurred to me … I should return the favor.

I went down on Goodman and began sucking his cock, which seemed to grow larger with every mouthful I took. After about three minutes, Goodman announced his intention to come. Not willing to swallow his load, I pulled off and finished him off by masturbating him to climax. After Goodman had come, we both collapsed on the bed … with smiles on our collective faces.

That night, we repeated our afternoon adventures. Goodman wanted to fuck me in the ass, but I declined. Let’s not take this queer deal too far, I thought.

The next morning, Goodman caught a cab to the airport, leaving me to fend for myself. I had two weeks of leave before having to report to my next duty station. I would never see Goodman again.

Stay tuned for Part 2.