Gay Erotic Stories

Trent Reznor stood up from his computer, stretched and yawned. A long day of playing Doom and cruising smut sites had left him restless and horny. He thought about calling for a call girl, but didn't feel like shelling out the cash, plus he wanted to get out of the house for a change of scenery. He figured he'd check out a club or two, and see if he could find some pussy for free. Or maybe even - nah, though he'd fantasized about gay sex, he was still a virgin in that sense, and anyways, now with his fame, he didn't want to get caught by the goddamned tabloids experimenting - that was the last fucking thing he needed. He wiggled out of his tight black bikini briefs, then sauntered over to the master bathroom for a nice steamy shower. Feeling the hot water stream down his torso to drip off of the end of his stiffening prick made him even hornier, and he reached down and soaped his cock up, squeezing and pulling on it. He delighted in the feel of the blood rushing into the tip, and found that palming it made his legs weak, so he slid down the wall to sit on the tiled floor with the water pounding against his genitals and hands as he jacked himself. On the brink of orgasm, he stopped briefly to tease his small, pert nipples, pinching and massaging them until he felt them ache, then he returned his attention to his swollen prick, massaging it with one hand. The other slid down between his thighs to fondle his balls, and then even further back, fingering his tight, hot little hole. He ran the tip of his middle finger over the small puckered folds of skin around the rim, then gently slid it through his sphincter, causing him to gasp from the sensation. He then slid it in all the way and starting rubbing his prostate. He was incredibly close now, and as he felt the first of the muscle spasms, he jerked and fucked himself harder and faster till he came, catching his cum in his hand to prevent losing it down the drain. Trent licked a bit of it from his fingers, savoring his own taste, then smeared the rest on and into his anus. He loved the lubed-up feeling it gave him, and secretly he liked to fantasize it was another man's, though he hadn't ever actually been with another guy. He quickly finished washing his hair and the rest of himself, then hopped out of the shower to towel off. Trent found he was getting horny again as he blow-dried his hair, it never seemed to matter how often he got off, and it was never enough. "Gonna end up with fucking carpal tunnel syndrome at this rate," he thought to himself, then he went to get dressed. It was a very hot, sticky, humid summer night. Trent would just as well have gone out in a skimpy pair of black silk boxers. However, he still struggled into his tightest pair of shiny black rubber leggings, then pulled on a plain black T-shirt, tight enough that his hard little tits showed through the thin cotton. Black combat-style boots, and the obscene looking bulge from his half-hard cock completed his look. Driving around New Orleans, he looked for a club to try. One where he wouldn't be mobbed by screaming fans wanting his autograph, and yet where he wouldn't be ignored either. He stumbled across a bar he hadn't heard of before, and decided to give it a shot. It was dark, and hot as Hell inside. "What the fuck?", he thought, "don't they have their air conditioner working?" He figured he wouldn't last long here - he was sweating like a pig, and felt very out of place here. And where were the women? Trent's thirst overcame his increasing desire to turn and run, so he walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender grunted and shoved a bottle of Budweiser at Trent across the greasy countertop. "Thanks," he mumbled, and thought about where he could sit (not that this was an easy task in rubber so tight), but somehow Trent feared turning around to look for a table. He gulped down the beer while still standing at the bar, and listened to the noises around him. Mostly conversation, deep throaty voices talking about Harleys, engine parts, and oils. Someone bitching about this asshole cop giving him a speeding ticket, fuck that pig! Sounds of a pinball machine or two, some music on a scratchy static filled radio, the Stones, the Who, shit like that. As Trent ordered another one, he noticed the aroma of his own sweat, and of other men's sweat. He felt how moist his hole was, sweat trickling down the crack of his asshole and mixing with his cum from earlier, making his asshole itchy for some stimulation. His balls were sweaty too, slipping around under the rubber, and his prick was still swollen and trapped between his thigh and the rubber. He felt his little tits stand up even more, and was aware that his face was flushed red and his hair as slick with sweat. Somewhere he swore he could hear squeals and moans, other sex sounds. Maybe the heat was just making him crazy, lightheaded. "Isn't that a nice piece of ass?" a voice growled behind him. Trent pretended not to hear, and felt terror - was that voice referring to him? "What about it, slut? You come in here to get fucked, bitch?" This time Trent knew the man was talking to him, as he felt a big powerful hand reaching between his legs to grope him. "Answer me, you cunt!" "Um, no," was all Trent could manage in a small, squeaky voice. "Yeah, right! You come in here dressed like a slut, you came here to get fucked!" "I didn't know what kind of a bar this was! I -" -SMACK!!!!as Trent got slapped upside the head. "I didn't give you permission to talk, bitch! Now you came here looking to get fucked, so let's see if what you got's worth fucking!" With that the man yanked Trent's shirt over his head, trapping Trent's arms as well. Then he unlaced the crotch of the rubber leggings and yanked them down to Trent's ankles. Trent was scared, and bent over the bar, his pink, wet little anus exposed. He felt humiliated. He also felt his cock swelling up, rock hard. "Well, well, will you look at that. The pretty little slut's got a pretty little pink pussy! I think he likes getting roughed up, too - look at how that pussy's drooling!" the voice snarled sarcastically. The other men in the room laughed, and Trent felt his ass glow red with embarrassment. "Aw, look - it's blushing! And the little bitch says he don't wanna get fucked. Whatsa matter, you scared?" "y-y-yes." "You a cherry?" "y-y-yes." "Well, isn't this a treat? But if you're a virgin, how come you got cum dripping out?" "it's m-mine." "Isn't that cute? But I bet you'd much prefer a real man's cum up there! Or are you afraid I'll get you pregnant, little slut! Turn around!" Trent tried, but tripped and fell face first onto the dirty floor, with his ass sticking up in the air. On the way down his T-shirt covered face brushed against the man's groin. The men laughed and made fun of Trent; Trent started to cry. "Quit your whining bitch, you'll get my dick up your pussy soon enough!" The man stepped on the shirt with one boot, and then kicked Trent backward with the other. He came out of the shirt and fell on his back with his legs in the air. More laughter. "Well, the pretty little bitch has a pretty little mouth to match that pussy! Bet you can't wait to suck my cock, slut! You can kiss it clean after I fuck your hole!" The man grabbed Trent's leggings that were twisted around his ankles, and using them as a handle, dragged Trent across the floor to a table in a dimly lit corner, then casually lifted him and tossed him face down on the tabletop. He shoved his dick in front of Trent's lips. "Give it a quick kiss for luck." Trent was still crying, and he shook his head no. He was rewarded with a hard slap across the face, splitting his pouty lips. The brute then repeated his order, and this time Trent obeyed, giving the tip of the cock a quick peck. Trent felt his own prick twitch with excitement, he loved feeling degraded, but he was also terrified when he realized just how huge the brute's cock was. Trent had played with dildos before, but nothing so enormous. This was gonna hurt. He found out just how much a moment later, when he felt the other man abruptly shoved his cock into Trent after putting on a condom. Trent screeched from the pain, but he also felt how close he was to cumming again. The stretching hurt, and he thought he'd be torn open, but he also felt intense pleasure when he thought of how slutty he felt - getting fucked up the ass by some guy he didn't know, not even his name, and with all those other men watching. Trent's cries of pain melted into begging the man not to stop, and fuck him harder. As it was, the fuck was rough enough that Trent could feel the table bouncing back and forth, almost collapsing from the force a few times. The only thing holding Trent from being bucked right off of the table was that the stranger was grasping Trent's shoulders as handles, pulling Trent towards him so as to impale deeper into Trent. Trent squeezed that huge prick with his cunt, trying to milk the cum from it, as he suddenly felt his own balls throbbing as his cum spurted all over the table. A few seconds later the brute came with a massive convulsion, squeezing Trent's shoulders so hard Trent thought the bones would be crushed. After, there was a moment or two of quiet, the man pulled out of Trent quickly, leaving Trent feeling empty, with his pussy gaping, and Trent squeezed his hole to shut it. The man was in front of Trent's mouth again, and he growled "I promised you I'd let you suck it clean after I fucked you - now do it!" Trent whimpered, but he didn't want to be beaten, so he took the cock in his mouth and sucked on it. Gross! Trent hadn't shit before leaving the house, and so the man's condom covered cock was filthy. He felt defiled and disgusting while he licked his own scat, but also incredibly aroused - especially as he listened to the man insult him - "you dirty slut! you love eating shit, don't you! You're a filthy disgusting whore!" "Look at that, you're hard again, you dirty shit eating little slut!" Trent felt his cock throbbing as he came again. Not much spurted out this time, and he felt his balls ache and protest the exertion, but Trent felt so very satiated as he finished cleaning the other man's cock. He then felt a warm flooding sensation - the previous beers were on their way out, and he felt powerless to stop it. The room laughed at Trent as he pissed himself, but Trent felt too tired to be embarrassed. In fact he was secretly thrilled at his exposure and degradation. To top it all off, the man then laughed and told Trent that since he liked piss, to hold up the waist of the leggings so as to form a sort of basin. Then he pissed on Trent's genitals and into Trent's leggings. The brute then ordered Trent to pull up his rubber leggings, which he did, feeling the warm, wet feeling of his own piss and cum, mixed with the stranger's piss, being trapped against his skin. He laced up the fly, trapping his very sore cock against his belly. He awaited the next order. The brute smiled cruelly, then used his foot to force Trent's face into the puddle of piss and cum on the floor. "Bad! Bad slut! Look what a filthy mess you made!" He forced Trent to roll around in it, dirtying his hair, face, and torso. Then Trent had to wipe it up with his shirt, which was then pulled over his face. "We don't tolerate such filth around here, you'll be punished for this!!!" Trent was punched and kicked by the brute and several of his friends, then he was allowed to pull his shirt on and crawl towards the door. As he was just about to be allowed to leave, the brute kicked him in the ass and said "Next time you come in here looking to get fucked, bitch, wear something with easier access! And you might want to think about some diapers for that bladder of yours!" They all laughed. The brute slipped something plastic into Trent's waistband, then booted Trent head over heels down the stairs to the parking lot. More laughter. Trent got into his Porsche ("bitch even has a pretty car - I'm surprised it ain't pink to match his holes!") and drove home crying, after making a mental note of the bar's location. When he got home he trudged up the stairs to the master bathroom again to clean up. When he peeled himself out of the piss filled leggings, now feeling cold and clammy, he saw the card fall out and remembered the brute putting it in. He squatted down and looked at it - a laminated plastic card that simply gave a pager and cell phone number on one side. Flipping it over, he saw one word, probably the man's name or pseudonym - "BRUTUS". How appropriate, Trent thought as he waddled into the shower and soaped up. For a moment he wondered about the lamination, but then realized Brutus was being practical if he was really into piss play. Make sure the sluts can't claim the phone number got ruined and unreadable. He wasn't sure whether he'd call or not. Part of him wanted to forget the whole incident, but his prick stood up at attention, demanding another encounter. Trent quickly and quietly got himself off, feeling how sore he was, then got out and toweled off. He waddled to bed, and as he drifted off to sleep, his last thought was that he'd decide whether to contact Brutus or not later, after his ass stopped hurting and he could walk normally again. END