Gay Erotic Stories

It was utterly dead in the locker room when I came through, and this room was likewise empty. Looking at my watch, it was still ten minutes before the time I was supposed to see the therapist. I’d made good time from the medical suite at one end of the building down a floor and to the other end even hobbling as I was.

I stood at ease and waited – you couldn’t be a marine without learning patience, and that training served now. I was so much at ease in my thoughts there just standing and waiting that I was startled when the door burst open, and a small and very well built young man burst through.

“Captain Cate! Sorry to be late, SIR!” he said, saluting.

Reflexively I snapped to attention and returned the salute, though the snapping part brought a noticeable wince when my legs and glutes reminded me of my injury. “At ease, er—“ I said, not knowing how to address him without any insignia or even his name on his white scrub-like duds – unusual for another military man, which he obviously was from his salute.

“Corporal Haynes, SIR!” he responded formally in contradiction to my order to be at ease. Not that I was complaining about his stance at attention – the smallish man was BUILT, apparent through the well-fitted and thin uniform he had on.

“At ease, Haynes, and I’m OK with Cate – sir not required.”

“Thank you, SIR!” he snapped formally and then obviously realized what he’d said. “Er, sorry.” At least he’d relaxed his stance after that.

And on top of being built of solid sinew, he was CUTE! About five-five at most, handsome, curly auburn hair, very short, of course, and piercing blue eyes.

“Well,” he said, nervous under my stare and still uncomfortable with my preference for informality, and he looked down at a clipboard he’d had under his left armpit. “Doctor Black has on the order here that you have a pulled hamstring, aggravated tensor and glute,” he half-read. Looking up at me with a smile, “Nice work,” he observed and then asked, “How’d you do it?”

“Tennis,” I said, simply. “I got a little over-competitive with a better opponent,” I grinned.

The truth was he was a far better opponent . . . and he was a maniac in bed. While the injury started on the court, it got considerably worse as I fucked that Frenchman’s ass almost through the wall after our match! It might have been different if we’d been in a bed; but we didn’t make it, and I was standing, knees bent, pain from my ham radiating as I pounded his tight, hot, hairy, wanton ass with him bent over a priceless antique table in the hall of his elegant apartment overlooking the Seine.

“Well, let’s have a look and get to work,” Haynes said, watching my grin and apparently gleaning that there was more to the story by my grin. “Get undressed, and get on the table face-down, and I’ll probe and see if I can make you beg for mercy. How ‘bout that?” he asked with a smirk.

“A challenge, or am I really in for torture?” I asked, starting to unbutton my uniform belt and slacks.

“A little of both, perhaps,” he chuckled.

Haynes got some supplies out of one of the cabinets while I got out of my uniform. I realized when I’d stripped down to my boxers that I probably could have left my t-shirt on, but the room was rather warm, so no matter, probably for the best.

He turned just as I turned after hanging my clothes on the hanger on the back of the door and neatly folding my t-shirt and socks. Haynes’ long look up and down my tall, lean-muscled, well-defined body showed his appreciation. I couldn’t hold that against him, as I’d taken stock of him myself.

Though we were both mid-twenties, light-haired and light-eyed, he was nearly a foot shorter than I and built like a wrestler, not like a swimmer like my body. I lagged a moment in my motions, allowing his eyes to get a good fill of me and returning the attention with another once-over of him. This time I noticed his big bulge in the front of his scrub-like pants – definitely well-equipped this little guy!

“Um, you probably should take off your boxers if I’m working your glute. The massage lotion will make a mess otherwise.”

He said it with an almost filthy grin, though observed it could have easily been interpreted as just amiable – I knew it was more, and the little shit was going to enjoy having me butt naked on his table! So I just pulled down my boxers and stepped out of them right there facing him. As I flipped them up with my left foot – my uninjured leg, so I only had to grit my teeth a little against a small jolt of pain in my ass! – and caught my boxers in air and folded them, I knew my big dick and big low-hangers had bounced and swung around, giving him the full show . . . at least the full show for this stage!

When I was sure – by his absent-minded adjustment at his crotch as he stared at me – he’d had a good show, I carefully got on the table, with only a couple of groans climbing on and getting myself comfortable. When I was settled I told him, “All in your hands now, Haynes.”

“Well, let’s see what we’re working with first, why don’t we?” I heard him say from behind me, and then his hands were on my upper leg, working up and down my hamstring, not roughly but not gently enough that I wasn’t giving forth a stream of “AH”, “OH”, “YOUCH” and the occasional “FUCK!” as he probed, pushed, rubbed and worked me from the back of my right knee to my right buttcheek.

“OK, assessment is over,” he finally said, and despite the cessation of the pains, I missed his surprisingly strong hands on me. “Should be able to help you some with that, but you’re going to have to take it easy, too, in order for all that to heal.” And then he added, as I heard a cap pop and then his hands rubbing together, “Man, you really must have wanted to win that tennis game!”

I was about to tell him he had NO idea how much I wanted it to be OVER so I could pound that hot French businessman’s ass . . . again . . . but as I was about to construct the semi-appropriate version of that thought for speech, his hands, with lotion warmed by them apparently, were on me, gently and quite nicely. “Mmmmmmmmm,” was all I could say.

I’d underrated Haynes’ touch before – very strong but very gentle and just right was more accurate. He was intuitive in his movements, pushing but not reaching the level of pain, just pressure and movement up and down and around my long upper leg. When he was working up by my glutes, his hands were around my thick thigh, his thumbs expertly relaxing my tensor – and his fingers on his hand on the inside of my thigh was brushing my sac again and again.

I was both subdued in my relaxation at his tough and also excited, my big cock hard and contorted under me. I finally said, “You’ve moved me around a lot – let me just adjust my position a little here.”

His hands stopped moving, but he didn’t remove them from my upper thigh. “Go ahead,” he allowed.

I made more of it than I needed, stretching and repositioning fairly elaborately so as to attempt to not have it obvious that I was adjusting because I had about nine inches of hard cock I was laying on that needed its space! “Thanks,” I said when I finally had my head down on the table again.

“No problem,” he said, his hands restarting their amazing work.

He gave my right glute a fairly aggressive working, noting almost in a mumble that this was where the spasm was that was causing a lot of the problem with the pull to the tensor and hamstring. Meanwhile I was both grateful for his hand not brushing my nutsac but also completely excited by his buttwork because his fingers trailed my crack and brushed over my hole with decent regularity. Also my glute was noticeably looser, the spasm I hadn’t even realized was abating as a result of his work.

Oh and my hardon was RAGING under me, and I could feel my pre against my abs under me. That thought caused my body to tense as I realized he’d see the wet spot. “Easy, captain,” he said, his hands flat on my butt and back now, as if he was gently holding me down. “You’re in good, experienced hands here, so nothing to worry about,” he said soothingly. “And yes, it’s pretty common for a man to become aroused on my table,” he added, causing me again to tense up and wince. With a chuckle he responded, “Easy, captain, really – the important thing here is that we get your butt and leg to the best place possible, and you have to relax for that to happen. I’m going to have to go over you again completely now that you’ve tensed up.”

I couldn’t see his face, even though I’d opened my eyes and twisted my head as much as I could to look back at him – but I swear the little shit was smirking when he said the last part. And the place I wanted my butt and leg was in motion, thrusting DEEP into his hot little ass, which I could see as I turned around, could see his bubble butt bouncing as he moved his arms working me again. Yes, my throbbing, pinned hardon confirmed – that would, in fact, be the best possible place.

As that last thought was passing through my mind, the heel of his hand rubbed down my crack, and I couldn’t help but to moan. And when his fingertips brushed my hole, my breath caught, and that moan when to a light gasp.

Haynes worked my glute well, but he also this time teased my crack and hole and the back of my sac with intent. The puddle at the end of my cock under my abs grew, as did the volume and length of my moans. When he was working up and down my leg to re-work my hamstring, his hand virtually assaulted – in the best possible way! – my sac with every move up there, and I almost whimpered when his hands traveled lower toward my knee again, desiring that touch.

That’s when he brushed against my right hand, which was on the table but at the edge, and I knew that I wasn’t the only one with a wet spot! I turned my hand enough to rub his amazingly large hardon, and he hissed in a breath. “FUCK I shouldn’t be doing this!” he swore.

But he didn’t stop rubbing into my hand as he worked my leg and teased my balls and then worked my glute some more and teased my crack more. His breathing was faster and shallower as I rubbed his hardon in those thin scrub-like pants.

He finally stopped all motion and put both his hands flat on my back and backed himself away from my hand. He was panting. I didn’t reach to grope him again – I just waited.

“I should say I’m sorry, captain,” he said in a husky voice.

“I stopped having to be a captain when I took off my uniform, Haynes,” I responded quietly. “Look, you are into it and I’m into it. Of the two of us, being the senior, if there’s fallout it hits me harder than it hits you.”

“No pun intended,” he blurted out with a nervous laugh.

I got up enough to look at him and saw he was smiling just a little. If we both want this, then it’s just a matter of if it happens here now or in our quarters later.

I could see that when I’d gotten up on my side his eyes had gone to my hardon, now visible, and they’d widened in appreciation. “My eyes are up here, Haynes,” I said with a smirk.

He flicked his eyes up to me but looked back at my cock. Licking his lips he said, “Yeah.”

“Is that, ‘Yeah, we will do this, either here now or later’ or is it, ‘Yeah I know your eyes are up there, but that fuckrod on you is too damn good to lose sight of!’?” I asked, boldly teasing him.

He turned and looked me in the eye with an intent gaze. “Both,” he said simply, in a low-pitched voice.

“My choice?” I asked, knowing the answer.

He looked like he didn’t understand my question, pausing long enough that I almost clarified it. Then his face slowly went to a dirty grin. “Captain, if you told me to assume the position out on the Place de la Concorde at ten hundred, I’d be there, my six greased and smiling as I awaited you!” Him using our vernacular for our butts – our “six” somehow went right to my nuts. Nothing like a brother turning on a brother!

I shivered, and my cock throbbed, and I knew a glob of precum accompanied that throb. “You always sweet talk officers like that so they’ll fuck you?” I asked, in the same low, slow delivery with which he’d made his declaration.

“Yeah, but only when they’re hot-as-hell, tennis-playing, horse-hung marine captains,” he said with a laugh. “Is it working?”

I looked down at my hardon and the wet spot on the sheeting. “Uh, I think we can confirm that,” I said when I looked back into his intense green eyes, quiet and direct.

“Good!” I snapped, causing him to jolt when I said it. “When something works, don’t change it!”

“Keep it simple, stupid?” he said.

I laughed. “Exactly, marine!”

He slowly reached out and was almost to my cock with his fingertips when I laid down hard, and he pulled his hand back. “Let’s opt for later, my quarters,” I said to his frown. “After I buy you dinner.”

“You don’t have to–“

“I want to . . . if you will have dinner with me that is. Or we could compromise and have dinner after I ball you senseless!” That was fair, right? Give him some workable choices.

His frown had gone neutral when I’d said I wanted to have dinner with him, but the alternative had him grinning. “I like the second option, sir,” he said quietly.

“Then that’s the plan, marine!” I stated as if it was a command.

“SIR, yes, SIR!” he mocked me.

“Save the sir for that, uh, more intimate setting!”

He grinned and put his hand on my ass, and gently held it there while I relaxed into the table, allowing me to have time to adjust my angry, throbbing hardon under me but also waiting until he felt me under his control again. Bill, Jr. was NOT happy with me at all that he was going to have to wait.

“Why don’t we get you relaxed again?” he said, beginning to massage my lower back slowly but firmly.

“Mmmmmm. Not that it’s got a great feeling, but if by ‘relax’ you meant relax my hardon, I’m afraid that he doesn’t give up so easily,” I said with a muffled chuckle, my face in the doughnut-shaped rest on the table. “And the feel of your amazing hands alone would reignite my jets.”

With that he began massaging my ass again, the seemingly endless plane of the heel of his hands swiping from my balls between my legs along up my crack and teasing my hole with his fingers with each pass. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I moaned, long and meaningfully, again and again.

It was hypnotic and exciting, both simultaneously. He took some of the pressure off by beginning to work my quads and hams again, but he continued the long swipes over my buzzing sac and up my crack at intervals, too.

Haynes worked both of my glutes and hams and then my glutes again, and when I was a mass of buzzing nerves but very subdued marine flesh, he worked his way up my back, giving my lower back a long workout which had me almost unconscious, I was so relaxed. He worked up my broad back and seemed to have magic relaxer rays in his touch, and every muscle was relaxed there before he moved on to my arm.

I was floating and relaxed, and my hardon had – not without some persistence – finally quieted down to semi status under me as he worked down my arm to my palm and fingers. When he finished with my right arm, he gently laid my completely inert arm at my side and gently let his hand trail up and across my shoulders as he made his way to my left arm and worked the same magic as he had on my other.

I think I was moaning at almost no volume as he worked, not hearing the sound of myself, but hearing his breathing and the gentle rustle of his scrubs. When he trailed his hand up my arm and moved around again, I thought it would be over – with great regret but almost no energy to express it.

Haynes went to a side counter, and I heard him squirt something and then heard him washing his hands with whatever it was, then I heard him wiping them with a towel. I knew I was moments away from being sent back on my way. My body was craving his touch, the non-sexual massaging he’d been doing was now my need.

I thought briefly how great his tight little body would feel in my grasp tonight, and my thoughts transferred those talented hands to my flesh again in my mind, knowing how good they’d feel on my raging cock and nuts. I’d make good use of his skills, addressing the area of me he had wanted to earlier and I’d stopped him – one of us had to in that venue, his duty station.

I started when his hands were on me again suddenly, despite his touch being very gentle on my head. “Don’t lose that relaxation, captain,” he said softly, beginning to massage my scalp.

I was instantly subdued again – his touch was that good – and I’d relaxed every muscle without realizing it. I couldn’t remember ever having anyone rub my head – my BIG head! – that way before . . . and it felt amazing. He worked my entire scalp and my neck, and I felt like a dog, wanting to push my head into his hands, craving more and more. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” I hummed in abject contentment.

When he moved forward a bit to work my shoulders, his hands were clean and lotion-free, so his touch was less massage than gentle strokes, which were erotic but hypnotic. But counteracting the hypnotic relaxation was another sensation – a definitely hard cock in his pants rubbing against the top of my head when he reached lower on my shoulders and had to lean into me. He wasn’t grinding against me – not at all – but I wished he was!

I felt my arousal return at racing speed, and I finally couldn’t lay still anymore, despite my continued moans of enjoyment of the relaxation of his strokes. I began to lift my head to turn into his hardon, intending to let him rub it in my face.

But Haynes gently pushed my head down, and he leaned down close to my ear. “We really should leave that until later. Sorry, I hope I didn’t ruin your state of relaxation.”

He hadn’t, actually, despite my raging bone again demanding its due. My body felt more relaxed than it usually did when I woke up from a great, long sleep. And he was right, as I’d been earlier – this wasn’t the place, and we’d already made a date for later.

“Thank you,” I said with many meanings and with full intent.

“My pleasure, captain,” Haynes said, backing away in a position that he could enjoy the sight of me, as I saw when I turned and started to get myself up. He very obviously was sporting a hardon – a huge one, as so many “little guys” seem to have – in his pants, and he was smiling at me, making no attempt to hide it.

I took my time moving my body up and sitting on the side of the massage table for a minute or two, my knees wide, my big balls hanging between, my cock jutting out toward him. Haynes never took his eyes off me, though he made many obviously-approving appraisal sweeps over my entire body with his searing gaze . . . as I’d intended.

“What time are you off duty, corporal?”

Despite the softness of my tone, he seemed to snap to almost attention at being addressed with his rank, probably just reflex given my rank versus his. I was sorry I’d chosen my words that way, but in the very quick thought I’d put into the phrasing of the question before I’d uttered it, since I only knew his last name, it seemed odd to ask a man what time he’d come to my quarters to get fucked by addressing him by his last name. Marines weren’t known for our smooth articulation!

“SIR, eighteen hundred, SIR!” he responded formally, his eyes now glued to mine instead of to my body.

I got onto my feet, sad for the lack of his stare as my muscles, hardon and sac all rolled and bounced as I did the little jump. I really did feel awesome, my leg still sore, but nothing like it had been. “Anytime after that, then,” I offered, not knowing how long it would take him to clean up and be ready for the fuck of his life.

“Eighteen-thirty, sir,” he confirmed, a bit less formally. “O quarters?”

I gave him the coordinates address of my quarters and told him how to get in from the inside of the complex without having to pass the guard, in case he would be hesitant. There was no reason for him to be, but just in case. I also told him I felt awesome and put out my hand in thanks.

As Haynes shook my hand, he put his other hand up and held mine in both of his. “We’ll both feel better later tonight,” he promised with a smile.

I returned his smile, retrieved my hand, gave him a long head-to-foot look, then I retrieved my uniform and left for the showers.