Your erotic stories

A Hot Gay Quickie at Thee Playhouse Theater in Tampa I left home headed to Tampa and the only thing on my mind was getting a blow job. It had been way too long and I needed some relief tonight! I had been to Thee Playhouse before so I knew that it was a hot, sweaty, sex filled place to go if you wanted to be certain of getting your cock sucked. This was definitely the place I needed to be tonight. No games, no pretense, just quick, hot, nasty sex!

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It started off as a stupid joke, one of those things sororities want entering freshmen to do during rush week. All the older sisters in the house I was most interested in voted that all the new freshman pledges would have to try anal sex before the end of the semester. If we wanted to join up, we'd have to take it up -- up the ass, that is.

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I shifted from one leg to the other impatiently, weighing my chances of escape. What would happen if I worked my way over to a window and forced my way out? No good, because not only were we stuck between stations but we were underground as well. The thought of emerging into the tiny dark space of the tunnel only to be hemmed in by a cold metal train was even worse than the claustrophobia I was starting to suffer where I was.

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"So, you are here to audition for my movies," Mr. S said to me as I entered the living room to the hotel suite. He was the director of Ruby Bulb films, and I'd been waiting for weeks to see him, as he only gave two auditions a day. I could tell which one was the big director immediately when I came into the room, as he was a Big Daddy Warbucks type, all height and big bones and muscles, and no hair.

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Penny had never had quite so much fun—or felt so much anxiety—during work as she had today. As a saleswoman in a lingerie store in the mall, there were always those fantasies. Spending hours in a room filled with large posters of half naked models and couples searching for a sexy outfit to get nasty in could really get the mind churning, even for a straight girl like Penny who was usually never sex-starved enough to have to daydream about it.

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I was online and horny as usual. Tonight I had posted a message on a gay cruising .org kindda site indicating that I wanted to suck a man's cock really bad as soon as possible. My profile indicates that I am a bottom and that I love to suck cock. My profile pictures there of me in action reinforce that fact along with a couple of testimonials from men who I have been very well pleased with my abilities to pleasure men sexually.

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Several years ago I was a COP, a policeman in a city of about 250,000 in North Carolina. The DWI Checkpoints and enforcement had just started to gain popularity. One part of that program was to assign officers to work the streets on DWI Patrol, rather than checkpoints. We were assigned to different sections of the city or to watch a particular bar or nightclub.

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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"Mmmph.", I moaned, my mouth completely filled with the hard, throbbing member as I sucked it, my tongue working along the underside with horny zeal on it's way towards the tip. My head moved rhythmically back and forth as the head of his cock grazed my tonsils, then back out to the tip until my mouth was flooded with his thick, delicious cum.

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I typed it in an IM window. 'Come fuck me' it said. Her reply was simple. 'Yes, Master.' How many times had I typed that to her in role-playing chat when I was on the opposite coast of the country? I've even typed that when I was close enough for us to make it happen. I would be there with my laptop in the king-sized bed at my hotel in D.C., messaging her at her home in New York. Close, but far. 'Come fuck me,' I typed. 'Yes, Master,' she replied. Odd how the same words looked different this time -- that was last night.

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