Your erotic stories

I was in college when I first had sex with another man. It was my first gay experience. It wasn't planned, at least not by me. I'm pretty sure he had planned it, or at least had set up the situation so that things might happen. It was enlightening for me feeling those new emotions and physical sensations. It was psychologically intense and redefined how I viewed myself and my sexuality.

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While I was in Miami about two weeks ago, I went to register for a room at a Marriott in Doral. I had made a reservation on-line about a month before that, but when I got to the desk, they told me that I had no reservation, despite showing them my printout. They thought I might have had the wrong Marriott; but when they checked there, nothing showed up in my name. I asked the desk clerk to check for space at a nearby hotel, and he said he would in a few minutes but he had to look after the others in line first.

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~And that, friends, is how to make a quick sausage and potato feast. Don't burn your fingers!~

I sighed and logged out of the blog. "Mew's Meows" was my pathetic attempt at opening up to people. My therapist had suggested it, telling me that the anonymity of the 'net might make me spill my guts since obviously his sessions weren't helping. I'd grudgingly agreed to make a go of a blog, in return for a promise of a waiting prescription every month. I'd named the blog "Mew's Meows" because I didn't want my whole name (Bartholomew) associated with what I was writing.

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"Can I give you head?" My consciousness snapped back to the here and now immediately. It was about 2 in the morning. I was sitting watching late night television, and my friend Keith, just discharged from the Army after 4 years, was sitting on the couch, looking at some extremely raunchy hard core pictures. All women, sucking dick, their faces, tits, hair, all splattered with cum, some licking it off the cock of the lucky guys they had just sucked off.

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I always have trouble sleeping in a hotel, especially the first night, so it is no surprise I am wide awake at midnight. I pour another glass of wine and open my laptop. I start searching for some gay porn so I can get off. Alcohol and orgasm are my go-to cure for insomnia. The hard part, aside from my cock, is finding a video that shows "real" guys. Shaved, oiled twinks don't really do it for me. Well. A shaved, oiled twink in the flesh might but I've never met one in real life.

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Meeting Tyler for the first time was exciting since I'd heard sooooo much about him. Tyler was my boyfriend's 'cool' friend back when he was younger. Tyler could always get James into bars and clubs when he was underage. James told me endless stories about the HOT girls Tyler dated and apparently shared with James occasionally.

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Room for Rent 2: The Party My last day with Gary and Jack was a Saturday. And this Saturday was like most others in this household. I woke up, washed my face and brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs for breakfast – naked. As usual, I found my housemates in the kitchen waiting for their morning blowjob. They were both glorious in their nudity…their semi erect cocks begging for attention.

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I had grown accustomed to the ordeal of waking up to the electrifying sensation that accompanied the sight of Jason's beautiful pink lips wrapped around my cock. He was, undoubtedly, the most gorgeous man that had ever come into my life. A ruggedly handsome face, framed by a French beard that always smelled of my cum and spiky jet black hair that made me melt each time he ran his fingers through them; all that was just an added bonus to the extremely lovable personality that I had fallen for.

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I was a married bisexual 35 year old cruising gay chat rooms again. I had some oral experiences, but really wanted to try getting fucked deeply. I had played with toys but found them boring. I wanted the real thing. 

I met a black man on line who liked married white men like myself. After some small talk, he invited me to his house for some afternoon fun. 

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I was 19 years old when I returned home from college in the summer of 1976. A lot about me had changed in the nine months I had been away, both physically and emotionally.

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