Your erotic stories

Pelle, or as I called him, "Baby face", looked so lovely now. He was eighteen, a year younger than me, but his looks made me think otherwise sometimes. So sweet but such a slut for being fucked by me. Those innocent blue eyes that made me quiver. That head full of sexy sleek dirty blonde hair I loved to run my fingers through. I couldn't keep my eyes off of his slightly thin and 5' 7" body.

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I don't even know where to begin. It's such a hard story to tell, and I'm afraid that it doesn't show me in the best light. 

I guess I should start by telling you about myself. I'm a happily married man, 47 years old, 6-2, 190 pounds. Maybe not the best looking guy, but I keep myself in shape and I work out every day. Grey hair, blue eyes, nice smile. 

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Have you ever woke up in the morning, thinking that your day was going to be just another day, but within 30 minutes of getting out of bed you were doing something you thought you would never be doing? Well that was my last Tuesday morning and I thought I would share my incredible experience with you.

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This is a story concerning gay males, classified within the Gay Male section. If you don't like or might even be offended by reading stories involving male homosexual activity, you should not read this story. * Jonathan and James had been good friends for quite a long time. Really, just about as long as they could remember.

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Dan and Brian lived upstairs from me. I had lived in the building for about two months when I started running into to them more frequently at the mailboxes in the lobby. The building had more than a few gay men and couples living there. While many of the other guys in the building were playfully flirty (and sometime more earnest than playful) Dan and Brian were at first, always polite but never much more. They were rare that way and maybe that was what made them intriguing.

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Here I was, driving in the middle of the night from one city to another. A friend was getting married in the capitol city where we went to college, but I had since moved away. I drove back for the wedding and was supposed to crash at an old buddy's place. The buddy flaked out on me, so I had no where to stay. I really didn't want to get a hotel room because I'm always on a budget. So, I just decided to pop a red bull and drive back home that night.

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He had hoped that by taking a long, hot shower that he would somehow be able to shake off, or at the very least reduce, that dreadful feeling of shame that had overcome him that night, but as was to be expected — it did not. He still felt dirty and had only found that feeling getting worse and worse by the second.

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I was standing over my father's grave at Sunnycrest Cemetery as the cleric spouted empty words and prayers, and as my mother wept crocodile tears into her lace hankie. "Be strong, Lucinda," said my Great Aunt Martha, patting my mother's shoulder. Aunt Martha was my father's mother's sister.

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I could see the sun slowly rising outside my bedroom window. I was tied to a chair as a chain of men had their way with my wife while I watched. It was her fantasy and my punishment for an eight month long affair. She had been fucking bareback off and on all night and I could see cum overflowing from her pussy as she lay on our bed with her legs spread wide.

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"I need a favor, Jakx." The deep raspy voice startled Jakx. He hadn't expected his best friend, Dykstra, to be this deep into the cave. No one came this deep unless there was a freeze. "Anything, my friend." Even though he preferred to be left alone, Jakx would never refuse Dykstra. Not because he felt obligated, but because the other man extended him the same respect.

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