Gay Erotic Stories

I usually didn't drink that much but tonight was different. She was supposed to be at the party at 8 PM. She said she'd get a ride with a girlfriend. She showed up at 11PM with another guy.

I was looking for a reason to dump the bitch anyway, and this was as good a reason as any. But I was still pissed that she showed up with another guy. Of course, I couldn't do anything about it because that would show that I still wanted her. I did, and I didn't. She was a good fuck and she sucked cock like a champ, but she was also a champ at fuckin' mind games! Too damned much trouble!

So I was still drinking at 3:30 AM when the host threw my ass out. I stumbled out into a warm spring night. I fumbled for my keys, finally got the car started and drove away. I was in an unfamiliar neighborhood and I got lost. In no time I was down in some industrial district of warehouses and railroad tracks. I remember crossing railroad tracks going to the party so I thought I knew where I was.

I didn't. Crossing the tracks, nothing looked familiar. I went down the street because there was a street light at the end, but the end was a dead end. I had finally found reverse when the red lights came on behind me. Shit, where did he come from?

I prayed silently that I wasn't going to be a “smart ass drunk” tonight. Friends had said there was no quicker way to end up in the drunk tank than to be full of “smart ass” comments. I tried to gain some composure as I realized the man was at the door of my car.

“License and registration”. What, no 'please'? I thought they were taught to say 'please'. I got my wallet out, but didn't know if the registration was in the glove compartment. I started to hand him the wallet and he said “Take it out”. Geez, a little bitchy, aren't we? Now I have the license out and I hand it to a man with a tightly gloved hand. Gloves in this weather, I thought? Why would he be wearing leather gloves in the spring?

“Out of the car!”, he demanded. This is the 60's I know, but Hell, isn't a little courtesy in order? At least until he knows I'm drunk?

I step out of the car, and in the bright overhead street light I become aware of a massive presence. I recognize a Sheriff's uniform. The man is in his mid-50's and is as wide as a professional linebacker. I'm seeing a husky, muscled, mature man in a tan uniform. Bald head, piercing eyes, thick neck, powerful looking arms filling his short sleeve shirt sleeves and skin-tight black leather gloves on his big hands. He's around 6 feet tall and probably 250 pounds of beef, not just big as I thought before, but mature muscled beef. My gaze stops at his waist and those black leather gloves. He is an intimidating sight!

“This license is expired. And I'm pretty sure you're drunk. How many drinks have you had tonight, Son?” Son? “Oh, maybe two or three, but that was hours ago, Sir.” I said in an attempt to be believable.

“Bullshit! You can barely stand and you smell like a brewery! I think you're on your way to jail, Son”, the big Sheriff said.

I had two unpaid speeding tickets from a different county, and if they got me down to the station they'd check that shit and I'd be in more trouble. Without thinking how it would sound I blurted out...

“I can't go to jail!”, I said.

This beefy Sheriff tightened the thin leather gloves on his fists, rolled his muscular shoulders and said incredulously, “Oh, you don't think I'm man enough to take you to jail, Son? Do you really think that?”

“No Sir, that's not what I meant. I meant I really don't want to go to jail.”

“That's not what I heard. So I'll show you differently”, he said.

He took out a pair of handcuffs and immediately had my left wrist cuffed. I remember he moved quickly for a big man, very quickly. Surprisingly, he fastened the other handcuff to the door handle of his duty car. I'd been arrested before, and this was unusual. This big, mature Sheriff was in front of me but something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong!

“You want to tell me why I can't take you to jail?”, he said. He was standing closer to me than was comfortable, and at the moment his gloved hands were out of view.

“Sir, I have unpaid speeding tickets and I don't want to get into trouble.” I thought I'd try the truth.

“So, you don't want to get into trouble and you don't want to go to jail. Because of speeding tickets. And how are you going to keep from going to jail, Son?” Son again? This wasn't going well at all.

“Let me tell you a little story. I'll make it short. I got divorced three weeks ago, my girlfriend has been out of town all that time and I haven't gotten off since she left. Are you sober enough to understand 'haven't gotten off in three weeks'?”, he asked. I wished he wouldn't stand so close to me.

“Yes Sir, I do understand. It means I'm horny, and a little bitchy.”

Another big mistake. I didn't see the fist coming, but I caught it solidly in the gut. Hard leather gloved fist driven by muscular power! I could barely stand! I had no wind! It was gone, and I gasped for air!

“Son, you have a real problem with your mouth. Your mother probably washed your mouth out with soap all the time. Hmm, no soap around here”, he said. “So here's how it's gonna go. You don't want to go to jail. You've got a 'smart ass mouth'. I don't like that. I haven't blown a load in three weeks. I'm getting ready to get my big cock sucked by a guy with a 'smart ass mouth'! This is sinking in, isn't it?”

When I couldn't see his gloved hands before it was because they were massaging his ample crotch. Now he began to loosen his belt with those gloved hands. This can't be happening! This doesn't happen, I said to myself! And all this time I'm watching a Sheriff unfastening his belt, lowering his uniform pants over tree-trunk thighs and then lowering his boxers. I looked around and the only things around me were warehouses, a harsh street light and the sound of crickets.

Now I'm staring at a thick, uncut cock of uncomfortable proportion. He has this member in a gloved hand and he's working it. No surprise, it's growing. And growing. He aids in the growth by grasping the shaft, pulling up, and lowering the zipper of his uniform pants. This is necessary to lift his low hanging ball sac out from inside of his pants.

“Sir, you can't do this. You're a cop!”

“No Son, I'm the Sheriff. I can and I will do this. Well, you'll be the one doing and I'll be the one receiving. You won't go to jail. And you won't tell anyone about this night, because you're smart enough to realize what a man my size can do with his tight leather gloved fists. I boxed in the Army as a heavyweight, and I never lost a fight. This would be very different. You're cuffed, and you can't escape. You'd just take a brutal beating from me to convince you to keep your mouth shut. But right now, I want your mouth open, don't I, Son?”

“But I don't know what to do.” I lied.

“You got a girlfriend? Does she suck your cock when she's on the rag? You know what your like. Do what she does. And hope that she knows how to suck a cock really well!”

He put his leather gloved hands on my shoulders and, having unfastened the handcuffs keeping me restrained to the cop car, forced me to my knees. He'd taken off his uniform shirt and his massive chest was covered with thick, bear fur and was incredibly well developed. I thought I saw a tattoo of something behind all that fur. He had a musky scent about him. He could have used better personal hygiene. Right, tell him that right now and find out how good he is with his fists. Dumb, dumb, dumb smart ass!

Now I'm where he wants me, and I gently take hold of his thick shaft and pull down. I see a tattoo the length of his bear cock. “Pain & Pleasure” is what it says. Uh Oh! The glans penis of his cock is too big to be comfortable to anyone, but without a doubt is very effective in use! How could I even get this in my mouth?

So I develop a plan. If I work what's here very well with my tongue, maybe he'll cum and I won't have to actually suck this big pole. He hasn't shot cum in three weeks. He should blow quickly. OK, I'll try that. I noticed how quickly I was sobering up.

“You'd better get started. Lick the shaft and suck on the end. Watch the big boy grow. Make my cock happy. Get your warm throat ready for all of my cock”, the muscled Sheriff said.

All of that was in my plan, except for the last part. He still held his big cock in his tight leather gloved hand, although it was hard enough now to stand up by itself. As I started down this frightening road, I wondered how the 'Hell' I'd gotten myself into this fix. I had no doubt that this night would be forgotten by me, for sure. I'd been in just a few fist fights before, and I knew I couldn't handle what this mature muscular Sheriff could do!

I licked some of the precum from the inside of his long, long foreskin and licked down the shaft. That was a long trip, and my tongue met his leather gloved hand. It was erotic to be licking the gloved hand of this beefy man, and I started down the cock trail again. Now concentrating on his glans penis, I licked and sucked that end and then moved to his balls, taking lots of time. He stirred slightly and it wasn't a pleased stirring.

“You're takin' too fuckin' long, Son. You're delaying the inevitable. Maybe your cunt isn't any good at sucking cock after all. Open your mouth and I'll show you how to work. It's been a while for me, and you'll be happy that it won't take long for me to cum.”

Dammit, I knew how to work it. I just didn't want to do it.

Now I feel tight leather gloved hands on the back of my head and this big cock is moving against my lips. The Sheriff isn't gentle. Probably never has been gentle. He's a rutting buck. He's the “cock of the walk”, and this cock is a champion. He's fucking my mouth and he's almost in. He's pushing harder and he's almost in. I'm breathing through my nose and he's still almost in. Why does he have to be so damned big?

I feel something at the back of my throat. He's slowly moving most of his meat to the back of my throat. He's harder and bigger than at first, and he starts to speed up some. I know what happens when I speed up. I'm trying to focus but I'm having trouble breathing.

His gloved hands are now at the sides of my head and he's got the grip he wants. He slows just for a moment, speeds up quickly and then slows again. I feel his warm cum painting the inside of my mouth. He's pumping and pumping. God, how much cum can this man have? I'm trying to swallow but I'm gagging, and most of his semen is coming out of my mouth. He'll probably be pissed about that. He may bust me up with his big gloved fists after all. Wonder where he'll dump my body?

He stops pumping with his bear cock deep in my mouth, and he's still shooting man juice.

“You should have tried to swallow more. I admit there was a bunch, but you should have tried to swallow more, Son.”

“I tried Sir, but there was so much, and you're so damned big.” The truth this time, for a second time.

He wiped the head of his cock on my face as he continued to release cum. I took this to mean that he wouldn't be mixing my blood with his cum. That he wouldn't be using those big leather gloved fists on me. Dreamer! I didn't know that at all!

He took a towel out from the back seat. He didn't clean me up but did a little on himself. As he was doing that he said, “I'm sure you won't have a thing to say about tonight. You couldn't handle me and what I can do. One big man thought he could. Found out, he couldn't. Got to him first. Hospital for three weeks, I hear. He didn't make a report.”

“You don't want any of that, do you Son?” He smoothed the thin leather on one gloved fist and punched it into the other one. It made a loud splat on impact.

“No Sir, I can't think of a thing to say about this night. Not a thing at all.”

“I will say one thing, Son. I think you're trainable. In a number of areas. I've got your information from your license. I'm going to call you. Make sure you decide to cooperate when I call. I promise you, it's for your health. We've all got to look out for our health, right Son?”