Gay Boy Stories Novels & Stories

The sting of being stood up was still there, but sitting across from this stranger — this man with kind eyes and a nervous little smile — it didn’t feel quite so heavy. They started talking. Awkward at first, then easier. He told her he owned a little bookshop. She told him she was an architect. The conversation moved fast, jumping from terrible dating stories to why certain buildings felt alive and others didn’t. Every time he laughed at something she said, her stomach flipped. The table was small. Too small. Their knees kept brushing. Each time it happened she felt that pulse between her thighs again. Stronger. She was getting wet. Actually wet, just from knees touching and the way he look

He looked exactly like the bad-boy gang-star types you read about in novels. dark, intense eyes that felt like they could see right through you, sharp jawline, and a body so ripped and dangerous it made my stomach flip just looking at his pictures. I got instantly wet staring at him. We started texting, and within an hour I was soaked through my panties, thighs pressed together while I read every dirty, teasing message he sent. My mind was racing with all the nasty things I wanted him to do to me. I couldn't take it anymore. I rushed to my wardrobe, grabbed my dildo, lay back on the bed, and slid it deep inside my wet pussy. I thrust it in and out hard, imagining it was Mhino fucking me sens

My biggest problem wasn’t writer’s block. It was a terminal, throbbing case of blue balls, and the only cure was Damian. I could write a thousand words about the slick heat of skin on skin, the guttural sounds a man makes when he’s about to come, the exact way a cock pulses in your hand. My anonymous stories in the university literary magazine were legendary, the most dog-eared, most whispered-about pages in the whole publication. Everyone thought "A. N. Onymous" was some kind of campus Casanova, a mysterious god of sex who’d seen it all, done it twice, and written the manual.

Adam let out a slow breath as he reached the end of the Louie confession. Firstly, the supply closet. So this is where it starts. The first taste. Louie’s trying to make it sound like an accident, like he was swept up. Bullshit. A man knows. You feel that pull, that dark curiosity, when a guy like Finn looks at you. It’s not about being gay or straight. It’s about power.

my cock. He was loving it. I was loving it. I flipped him over and pushed his legs back to his head. I was going to give him a prostate massage, I flipped him up, put a pillow under his back and slowly pushed in, feeling around. I saw his face light up and kept short strokes up until he started moaning louder. I kept rubbing his prostate with my cock head until he screamed "What the fuck is going on? This feels so fucking good!!" I smiled back and said "You're gonna cum on my cock, aren't you?" He looked at me and said "I dont know, this feels so much different." I stroked his hole a little bit faster, looked him in the eyes and said "Cum for me." He moaned for a few seconds looked back and

“Now ruin it.” He withdrew until just the tip remained, then slammed back in. A brutal, punishing thrust. Leila screamed, her nails digging into the leather. He set a relentless, rough pace, each drive a claim, each withdrawal a tease. The slap of his hips against her ass filled the room, a lewd percussion to their choked moans and filthy talk. “You like this?” he grunted, pistoning into her. “You like getting your ass fucked by a gay man?” “I love it!” she shrieked, pushing back against him. “Your cock is so deep! I can feel it in my guts!”

Just me, my nerdy glasses constantly slipping down my nose, and the three ripped, dangerously attractive stepbrothers I’ve done everything possible to avoid since they entered my life. Kai, Jax, and Ryker. All tall, heavily tattooed, muscular, and packing the kind of cocks I describe in vivid, vulgar detail in my secret online stories. The ones that made my anonymous account LunaLustWrites explode in popularity. Faceless videos of my body — heavy tits bouncing, my tight pussy stretched and creaming around thick toys, my ass arched high showing that small heart tattoo and distinct mole on my lower back. I write depraved taboo fantasies and film myself living them out in secret. No one knows t

He told me that some men like to watch their cum spray onto their cocksucker's tongue and how sometimes they like to shove it balls-deep and cum right down the throat. After we had chatted for several weeks, he asked if I thought I was ever going to really give it a try. I told him I didn't know, that the thought of actually doing it was scary and that I wasn't gay. He told me that by chatting with me, he could tell I was the perfect boy to be a cocksucker and that I should try it.

She’d tried to convince me to take a ride on the gay train, but I’d turned her down easily by pretending I thought she was joking. “Just make sure to carry your pepper spray and some condoms your purse and have fun, girl. We’re young; we don’t need to tie ourselves down to this monogamy bullshit! Live a little!” she’d said in her high-pitched voice. Naomi was never the faithful type. I laughed to myself. I took a long shower and hurried to bed. I needed tomorrow to come much faster. When I crawled into bed beneath the covers, it was only just 9 o’clock.

He is fragile and innocent. Yes, I am gay. No, Vain made me gay. Well, that was the only good thing he has ever brought to me. Making me realize I like guys. So far, I have been with men, men I won't be able to know their faces anymore. But the boy was my first time. He was the first I fucked instead of getting fucked. it was also my first time raping anyone. I am sorry.