Your erotic stories

"Unnngggh," I groaned as my alarm beeped me into consciousness Monday morning. I considered slamming my fist down on the snooze button, as usual, but then I remembered that I had a psych exam in an hour, and I blew off studying last night. "Damn," I mumbled, turning my alarm off and crawling out of bed. I stood up and stretched my arms over my head, yawned, and scratched my chest. I gazed out the window and groaned inwardly as I saw heavy sheets of rain pelting campus walk. This is going to be a bad day, I thought.

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This was just a temporary gig, but they'd stuffed Karl into a dark green coverall with the Army logo plastered on the sleeve. It wasn't really that much different than his flightsuit but the colour and texture was all wrong and it just didn't feel right wearing some grease-monkey's gear instead of his own. There was nothing he could do about it, though—Army was big on uniforms.

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About a month after my first encounter with a man I decided to try my luck again. This was way back in 1966 when the gay movement was unheard of and in fact I never knew another guy in my entire school time that admitted to being with a man. Being called a cock sucker was about the worst thing you could be called. In spite of this when I had become aware of the notes written on the stalls and walls of the local city hall bathroom offering or wanting blowjobs it had intrigued me and turned me on.

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