Your erotic stories

Criticism much appreciated, this is a rewrite of Brian's Fuck and have changed the title as you suggested. * I felt Brian's fuck like I knew I would. He was a big guy and I just knew when we did foreplay it would hurt first time, but the fact is I wanted it and I wanted to share the experience with Brian who I trusted implicitly.

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I had only been home a few weeks when my boss called me into his office. He asked if I wanted to go back to Miami, a customer had called and needed some help planning a big project. I asked for a couple of days to get ready and he said that wasn't a problem. The first thing I did in prep was to call Anthony and tell him I was coming back. He told me to call when I found out my itinerary and he'd pick me up at the airport.

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Insolent. That was the only word that came to mind as I looked at Jeremy Saitou. Everything about him seemed to radiate impudence: his brightly colored hair (red enough to rival any fire engine), his pierced brow and lower lip, the electric blue plugs in his stretched earlobes, his mouth, which—thanks to a small scar on the right side of his upper lip—was curled into a permanent sneer.

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I looked at the clock, it was 4:10 on a Friday afternoon and my last client was running late. I ran a massage business and was looking forward to going out for drinks with my friends in the city. Being in this industry I feel the need to constantly look after myself so I am in good shape with a nice toned but not overly muscular body and a brown tan from spending time at the beach.

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To describe exactly why my stomach coiled and my heart rate increased when I saw him would be like trying to explain why the earth is round, or why Oranges don't have a more original name, or why, no matter how much gel I use, I can never get my hair to look like that model in the advertisement with the skateboard.

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Let me first introduce myself. My name is Marcus Sinclair McManus. I am twenty-five years old, single and I live in Los Angeles. I work in advertising for a relatively small, but very successful and profitable agency called Sinclair McManus, which I also happen to own. I became the sole owner of this agency, founded by my parents Andrew McManus and Jennifer Sinclair, some three years ago, at the tender age of twenty-two, when both my parents were killed outright in a truly horrible automobile crash.

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My daughter announced she was getting married. I had been expecting it for a while now. Mark was a great kid. Well, I guess young man is more accurate.

He and Abby had been dating for almost three years. They had finished school, he passed the bar exam, and now was working in his father's firm. She had just come in from dinner with Mark and his parents, Robert and Louise. They have a membership in a very nice country club. 

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As James approached the front door he reached absently for the keys in his back jeans pocket, striding up the steps to the door. Without thinking he reached for the door handle, and to his surprise it opened without any need for the key. He paused momentarily. Strange. Even if Michael was at home it was unlikely that he would have left it unlocked.

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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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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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