Gay Erotic Stories

I had just finished serving my National Youth Service Corps mandatory National assignment and waiting to secure a white collar job. My hope was that since Lagos was such a bustling commercial mega city, securing a job there would be easy. But that was a tall dream. Before long, a year had flown by. I was still a dependent at twenty-four under my thirty-three year old aunty, who was then working with a popular bank. From the way she treated me, I knew she loved having me around. I cleaned the house, cooked meals and I was not the type that frolicked with girls. So, any time any of her gentlemen callers called, surreptitiously, I extricated myself and allowed them their needed privacy. Also, she made sure I had ‘pocket money’ every day.

Furthermore, we would sometimes attend clubs together and she would pretend to her friend that she was My Sugar Mommy. Her cougar friends would want to have their claws on me but I would also pretend that she and I were an exclusive item. After we left the clubs, her friends would be hooting for me to ‘take good care of her in bed’…Then in the privacy of the house or in the car, we would have a good laugh.

I was a tall, dark complexioned man, who spent time working to develop my abs, thighs, buttocks and arms. I could be called a Gym rat. I loved to exercise just to keep in shape. Many time, ladies would ogled over my body and I made sure I advertised it too by wearing tight fitting clothing. Sometimes I caught some men giving me appreciative glance at swimming pools and at the gym. My endowment in the groin area had always been too impressive. I had seen other guys in locker rooms and public showers gaped with bulging eyes each time they saw my humongous manhood. Yet, I was yet to taste the forbidden fruit.

Not that I was shy, but I grew up in a strict Christian home and we were told to keep ourselves pure until we were married. Then I witnessed three of my friends died of HIV-related diseases. I also lost two uncles to the deadly scourge. Not to mention the girls on our street in the village that died of the deadly scourge. Then the fear of eternal damnation, all conjoined to scare me about living a life of debauchery.

So, back to my story. I sat like a lone wolf at a beach-front joint named ‘Friends’. There was also a couple of white men drinking and smoking away. I greeted them, but sat alone in a corner. A plump guy, Jae (Not real name) came and congenially greeted me and took my order. It seemed he was the owner or the joint. The other joints were demarcated with raffia fence and were very busy with music blasting and people milling about. However this particular one had less customers and quieter. It suited me just fine. I nursed my big bottle of stout. Later, Mr Jae came with another bottle and said: ”Compliments of the white gentlemen.”

I was surprised but accepted nevertheless. After downing the second bottle, I felt a little giddy. I was not a heavy drinker. Usually I loved a bottle of Heineken and that was all. But I guessed that day I wanted to feel like the big goons. I stood up to leave and promptly, Jae came over wearing a nice smile.

“They asked if you could join them.” “I am sorry I can’t. I think I am OK for the night,” I said coolly. “Come on dude. The night is still young. Don’t you want them to spend money in my stall?” He said dramatically. I gave it a thought. My aunt had a man in the house and it was not yet nine. I didn't want to have to go and sit at the veranda or barge in on them. So, reluctantly, I joined the two White guys.

At the point, some men started trooping in and bantering with Jae.

“I am Joe, this is Daniel,” the older of the blond men introduced the duo. “I am Terry. How do you do?” I replied as I shook their hands and sat down. “ How do you do?” They both chorused. We shared some small talks. I refused the offer of another beer.

We talked about football - they were British and ardent Arsenal fans. I was a Manchester fan myself, so we spoke at length about Arsene Wenger and Jose Mourinho.

Joe was a pilot and Dan worked as with cabin crew in the same airline company. I warmed up to them. After awhile, they suggested we changed places. They suggested Bakersfield Night club. It was still within the Island, so I was not in the least perturbed.

At Bakersfield, we met some of their friends, some local while others were international. I was beginning to enjoy myself in their company. Some pretty girls, scantily dressed and puffing away cigarettes tried to catch the white men’s attention. Some fell under their spell and were soon gyrating on the dance floor. Joe and I sat at the bar and drank red wine and nibbled on peanuts the chubby bar man offered us . I had never felt so exhilarated. Perhaps the mixture of the beer and the wine was taking its toll.

I excused myself to relief my bladder. He got up and followed me. Inside the small convenience, there were about three urinals. I chose the first one and he chose the one next to me. I was not concerned by the proximity because after all we were both men. When I brought out my shlong to pee, he whistled and I saw his eyes bulging out of their sockets. “Wow. That’s a big boy you got there young man,” Joe exclaimed. “Thank you, Joe,” I laughed away. A man had never complimented my manhood before. “I am sure you are very popular with the ladies,” he winked and me and patted my back.

Still peeing, I didn’t know what came over me, but I blurted out: “I have never been with a girl before.” “You must be kidding. I would never believe you are gay. You don’t have the nuances,” he laughed heartily. “I am not gay,” I stated defensively. “Listen, Terry. Don’t sweat it dude. We are gay ourselves. Ain’t no thing, bro,” he said with an American twang.

Then the penny dropped. No wonder. There was something I could not put my finger on with those two. They seemed too chummy and I was really intrigued. Truth be told, I had never come across a real life gay man before. I only saw gay men characters in movies.

He zipped up, winked at me, smacked me gently on my butt and left. When I was through, I zipped up, washed my hands and went back to the bar. At that point I was at a loss where the direction of our discussion would head to. But upon my return, Joe was dancing to the music of Lil’ Wayne with one of those girls. I was in for a long ride, tonight, I thought rather sheepishly.