Gay Erotic Stories

Disclaimer: The following story contains adult subject matter. If you are under the age of 21 you should not be reading this and it is illegal for you to possess it. If you read beyond this point, you are claiming to be 21 years of age, and that it is legal for you to possess adult oriented material. This is a sexually oriented work of fiction. If sex between consenting adults, homosexuality or therein is offensive to you, DO NOT READ IT! By reading beyond this point you are accepting homosexuality and adult oriented material willing. What follows is a chapter of a series called Psyched Out. It is celebrity and other fantasies in a confession type setting. These stories are not to imply that the persons involved are gay. They are homosexual fantasies about people who may or may not be gay. Consider them a wish. Psyched Out Fourteen: Gregory Harrison by R. A. Swain "I'm early this week, Doc." "You're five minutes late." "That's early for me." "How was your week?" "What do you care?" "I'm supposed to care, that's what I'm here for." "Sorry, I had a rough week." "Want to talk about it?" "No, well, maybe. I don't know. I wish I could just stop having feelings for Bob. He hurt me, and I can't seem to stop loving him and wishing I'd have him back. I sway between desire for him, and wanting to hurt him the way he hurt me. Is it wrong to want revenge?" "No, it's wrong to seek revenge, but wanting it is okay." "Cool. I want it a lot. I want it in a big way. I want his wife to know all about him, and his ex-wife too. I want them to know about him and me. But I can't risk that, he's crazy and would kill me." "You should deal with this." "I deal with it by having really great sexual fantasies. Wanna here one about Gregory Harrison?" "I know who he is, I've seen him in a couple of tv movies." "Yeah, dark hair, blue eyes, hairy chest, washboard stomach, hairy legs. A real hunk. Anyway, in my fantasy, I'm jogging in a park. Stretching against a tree, when this hot guy jogs up to the same tree. He stops and starts to stretch. "Hi," he says. "Hi," I say back. I notice his red Nike shorts and the T-shirt hanging from his waist. His bare chest is covered in a fine sweat. I want to lick it, but maintain control seeing as how we're in a public place. "You look in good shape," he says. "You flatter me. You're in hot shape, I'm lukewarm." "Wanna race?" "I guess." He points over to a grove of trees on the other ide of a field. "I'll beat ya' to that grove over there." "You'll race me. I'll beat you." I say. "A bit cocky. Wager?" "I haven't got any money on me." I say. He walks up to me, pulls my T-shirt up and over my head. He tucks it into the back of my shorts, and casually squeezes my crotch. "Loser licks the sweat off the winners balls," he says. Before I can answer he continues. "One, two, three, go!" He takes off with me following a close second. The grove is farther away than I thought, but I manage to hold my own. We reach the grove, him first. He's panting as am I. We walk a bit in circles before speaking. "I won," he pants. "Not bad for an old man," I tease. "Old?" "I know who you are, and I know I'm younger than you." "Yeah? Well, sonny, get over here on your knees and worship grandpa's balls like you agreed to do." "I didn't agree, but it was the bet." I look around. It is secluded in the trees. No one can see us from the field, so I walk up to him and run my hand down his hairy chest to the top of his shorts. I pull them down slowly and reveal a tight stretched jockstrap. "Yum yum. I like the way you package that cream filled treat of yours." He laughs. "Want a twinkie kid? Suck on it and get the cream out." I fall to my knees and pull his jock down. He's about seven inches, and rock hard. His dick angles up toward his belly. I move my tongue toward his sweaty balls, as we agreed. I inhale his sweat deeply, and begin licking. He moans, and I lick each of his balls, sucking gently on them. After a few minutes I stop. "Well, that was the bet. Unless you want more?" "More. Now. Suck my cock!" he orders. My shorts are tenting out and he notices. "Strip down first. I want to see you jerk ff while you suck me." I shed my shorts and jock, leaving us both in just sneakers and socks. Quickly, I grab his cock and wrap my lips around it. He moans and shivers. I run my tongue up the shaft and over the tip to the underside. He shudders. "Oh fuck! You're good. "I know," I say, pausing for breath. "I'm very good." I run my hands over his hairy butt, and into the crack. He thrusts his hips forward as I suck him deeper into my throat. He bucks a bit, and I insert my middle finger into his puckered hole. "Oh God. Finger fuck me man." I do as he says, feeling the sweat running down his back and down mine as well. We are working up more of a sweat than we did running. He pulls back. "Bend over. I wanna fuck you." He dick is wet from my mouth, but I wish it were slicker as he positions the tip against my waiting hole. "Go slow. We need more lube." I say. He smiles at me and spits in his hand and rubs it on his cock. "A spit fuck will have to do." He then begins to thrust into me, slowly. I feel his seven inch long, three inch wide monster push into my ass and I groan. It hurts, but begins to feel good after a few seconds. His cock stretches my hole, and I feel pain yet pleasure. "Fuck me! Harder," I say. I feel him slam all the way into me, pressing his balls against mine. He thrusts several more times before pulling out and shooting his load over my back. He pulls me up, pressing his chest against my back, and begins jerking me off. His fist pounds my rocket, and I shoot off into the grass. "Oh yeah! That was fuckin' hot." he says, reaching for his shorts. "Same race tomorrow?" "Tomorrow I win," I say. He looks at me. "It looks like you won today." "Well Doc? Looks like my time and your dick are both up. Catch you next week."