• Queer Fiction
• Kinky Erotica
• The Softer Side
By Cherry Black
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by J.T. Benjamin
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The Boys Upstairs
by Beth Vox
by Helen Madden
St Lucy's Day
by Helena Settimana
by J.T. Benjamin
by Kathleen Troutman
by Lara Nickles
Home Is The Place
by Robert Buckley
by Lilie Berlin
How We Convinced
by Chris Skilbeck
I'm in a gay bar called "Lester's." The strongest smell of the place isn't that of the gin or the beer or the cigarettes; it's the testosterone. All those homosexual men walking around are putting off a sexual scent so powerful it's making me dizzy. It's also making me horny.
I've spent the whole evening talking with Gary, a young man I just met tonight. He's barely twenty-one, and he's beautiful. Wavy, sandy blond hair, broad shoulders, blue eyes and absolutely perfect teeth. He's talking about college, but I'm not paying as much attention to what he says as I am watching his mouth move and wanting to nibble on those full, red lips.
We're sitting in a booth in the back of the bar, leaning forward so we can be heard above the din of the music and the people talking. I can smell Gary's cologne. I can also smell his sex.
I find myself stroking the hairs of my goatee again. I always tend to do it when I'm thinking of sex. The gesture both smoothes the hairs and scratches the itch. I used to think it made me look distinguished, but now I fear it just makes me look pretentious. Unfortunately, it's been a much easier habit to acquire than to break.
My self-awareness is making me even more uncomfortable than I already am. I can't sit still much longer. I want to loosen my necktie and rip off my shirt and walk around naked to the waist for the rest of the night. The rigid bulge between my legs actually hurts. I'm aching for Gary to touch me and when he places his hand on my thigh, I almost jump in relief. I put my hand on top of his. I whisper, "Want to go into the Ladies' Room?"
Gary blushes. Since Lester's caters exclusively to men, the Ladie's Room doesn't get much use. Somebody had the bright idea to put a lock on the door, so that a person could have someplace to spend a little quiet time with a new friend. Gary says, "Sure. Let's go."
I lock the Ladies' Room door behind me. Gary's waiting in the nearest stall. His pants are down around his ankles. His huge, erect cock is staring at me. I get down on my knees in front of him and caress the big, beautiful thing for a moment. He lets out a quiet little moan and then, when I take him into my mouth, his moan becomes a groan.
My nostrils are full of the musk that his cock is giving off. I can taste his salty precum almost instantly. I slide my tongue up and down his shaft and then relax my throat muscles, letting his cock go all the way into my mouth.
Gary doesn't say anything for a while, and I'm happy to simply hear him breathe and grunt while I blow him. When I sense he's getting closer, when his cock throbs and swells even larger, I pick up my pace. I also pause long enough to wet the middle finger of my right hand, and when I resume sucking on him, my finger works its way between Gary's firm, tight ass and it finds his anus. I massage it with my finger for a moment and then it slips inside.
Gary gasps, involuntarily tightens his sphincter muscle and then forces himself to relax. My finger goes inside up to the second knuckle and I begin thrusting into his anus and continuing my blowjob.
It doesn't take Gary long to orgasm after that. If he doesn't convulse just before he cums, I might have been taken by surprise. I'm not, though. I gulp down his hot semen as fast as he shoots it into my mouth. When he's done, Gary's knees buckle and I'm pleased at my performance.
Gary stares at me, trembling. My finger's still up his asshole and he shudders when I wiggle it. "Do you like that," I hoarsely whisper.
Gary gulps, nodding his head.
"Want more," I whisper.
He nods again. I don't have to tell him to turn his back to me; he obeys my unsaid command and spreads his legs.
Gary's buttocks look incredible. They're smooth and so firm. I want to claw at them, scratching the skin, tearing at them. Instead, I gently massage them for a moment.
I slide my suspenders off my shoulders and unbutton my pants.
Gary says in a trembling voice, "Don't forget the condom."
"Of course." I barely say the words, but they seem to resonate in the deserted bathroom.
The lubricant is warm from having been in my jacket pocket. The gel oozes between my fingers. A little of it goes into Gary's anus, and a lot of it goes onto my organ. I even reach around Gary's waist and put a little of it onto his cock, which is still hard. It stiffens a little bit at my touch.
I move forward. The anus always resists the initial intrusion and when I move past that resistance, going deep into the man I'm fucking, I always think of a penis breaking a virgin's hymen. I wonder if they feel the same degree of pain.
Gary's cry echoes around the bathroom as I slide deeply into him. He widens his stance and forces himself to relax. I thrust slowly, but more easily every time. I clutch at Gary's hips and I can hear his breathing becoming labored. I stare at his large, strong hands which are braced against the wall. They form into fists and then spread out again, pressing flat against the wall and then back into fists.
Gary's trembling again and I fuck him faster and faster, letting the burning sensation between my own legs grow and grow. With my final thrust I cum and I drive deeply into Gary's ass, making him cry out. Pressed up against him, I reach around and grab Gary's cock. I have to stroke it only two or three times before he cums again, spurting and dribbling semen all over his cock and my hand.
I quickly withdraw. By the time Gary's recovered and he turns around to face me, I've already pulled my pants back up.
Gary smiles, sheepishly. "Hang around here often," he asks. It's one of those awkward post-fuck moments when there's not much to say besides meaningless small talk.
I return the smile. I whisper, "I plan to, if there's a chance to see you again."
Gary says, "Great." Having run out of things to say, he bows his head and says, "I've gotta run. See you around." We share one single, tender kiss, and then he's gone.
I lock the bathroom door behind him, clean up the mess, thoroughly wash my hands, adjust my appearance, and then leave the bar as quickly as possible.
One side-effect of these encounters is an empty, hollow feeling I have. I've never been completely satisfied afterward. I always crave more, and the knowledge that I'll never get more makes me want to cry. I force myself not to feel hollow as I drive home. Instead, I focus on the smell of Gary in my nostrils and on my lips.
My roommate, Angie, is awake when I get home. She sees me and a disgusted look overcomes her face. "You went out again, didn't you?"
"Don't start with me," I say. "I'm going to take a shower." I remove my suit jacket and drape it over the closet doorknob. I slip the suspenders off my shoulders and loosen my necktie as I walk toward my bedroom.
Angie follows me. She asks, "Who'd you meet tonight?"
I talk while I undress. "His name is Gary. He's on his lacross team in college. He's still in the closet and scared to death of getting caught."
Angie says, "You should be, too. Your ass is grass if you fuck up."
"Don't worry about me," I say. Slowly, I peel the false goatee and mustache off my face, rubbing the spirit gum off with my finger. I can still smell traces of him, mingled with the odor of the soap from Lester's ladies room. I try to deflect Angie's criticisms by getting back on the subject of Gary. "Every time Gary has sex with his girlfriend, he feels entitled to go to a gay bar and really enjoy himself. Isn't that pathetic?"
I unstrap my latex dildo and toss it onto the bed. Not only does it look and feel like a real live cock, but it's got a special feature; tiny little latex knobs that press against my clitoris while I've got it strapped on, enabling me to enjoy myself while I'm using it.
Angie says, "You know what's really pathetic? A straight woman so horny for gay men the only way she can get off is to dress up like one."
I sigh and begin unwrapping my breasts. The hollow feeling is back. "You're right. That's really pathetic."
© 2000 by J.T. Benjamin All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without consent of the author. This means you.
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