Hairy Chest Gay Men Novels & Stories

A tightness wrapped around his chest, guilt and confusion twisting deep in his gut. “Rhea, I’m gay. You know that,” he said, running both hands through his hair in frustration. “How could you love me? I have a boyfriend. I like Chris.” His voice was raw, cracked with confusion and helplessness. Rhea then closed her eyes tightly, willing herself not to cry harder. Then, with a deep, trembling breath, she spoke again, quiet and resigned.

The guy cleared his throat and Stacy smiled, "umh.. shit, umh Justin this is Lin.. Lin this is Justin... we will be back later okay?" "Later.. when..? Hi Lin.. are you gay?" Aww cute, so insecure.. I laughed and opened the door for Stacy. She got in and I turned to the guy, deciding to play with his feelings, "umm... later.. I don't know... we got a lot to catch up on.." "Are you gay?" He asked again. I mean I was fucken obvious right now because I was fitting the stereotype of lesbians exactly. Black ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a white shirt. I screamed GAY...

I start to tug at my clothes, feeling too hot with them on. Vesper is purring, unable to fight the heat overcoming us. She wants him as much as I do. I grip at his shirt, aiming to tug it off and reveal his hairy chest beneath. Given he was a warrior, Rhory was fit and his chest was chiseled to perfection. A work of art, and mine to touch. All mine.

His hands showed no mercy, and neither did his lips. He took off his shirt, revealing that masculine, well-built torso. I can’t wait for the day I finally get numb to this feeling. The hot, intense rush that stiffened my dick every time I saw his body. I liked hairy men. They made me weak in the knees. And I hated that he had exactly that — dark hair trailing from his chest down to his waistband. He was well into his thirties, giving his muscles that certain mature tone only older men seemed to possess.

The caller at the other end responded. Right at the government house, high top government officials and respected billionaires were seated as Jefsexy stept in. “We're all gay and over ninety eight percent of us here are straight and just a handful of us here prefer to be penetrated and so we travel Miles just to get a perfect match before our sexual desires can be satisfied.”

she pointed out. "Gay men can be very sexually proficient," I countered. "Cáel Nyilas (damn, she loved my name), you came five times. I lost track of how many orgasms I had. If you are gay, you aren't in De-Nile, you are in Ethiopia," she giggled. This wasn't the right moment to brag that I ejaculated eight times last night. Rhada filled up three condoms during our little escapade. I repeat, I have an out of control libido.

"What do you mean by changing my clothes? I can't see any nearby restrooms here, bastard." "Stop calling me that. Grandpa will notice. And, just change here. Come on. You're not my type. Even if you flaunt your entire naked body before me, I won't jump on you. Also, I don't like women." "What? So, you're actually gay? Holy shit. No joke? The infamous Chevalier was actually homophile?"

Justin looked called out. “Don’t worry, Justin. I have a porn file on my computer too. I mean, I don’t keep it a secret. I’m, after all, the only one in my house into guys.” I assured with a laugh. “Oh really? Does your porn feature two guys screwing? Or is it the kind we can watch together?” Collin arched an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, flipping him off. Fucking idiot. “Some of it does have two dudes. Ever notice that gay and bi guys tend to be hotter than the straight ones. It’s like a curse on us straight women.” I dramatically sighed, holding my hand to my forehead.

And the way his face softened when he laughed. I sighed as I brushed my teeth. I should definately not be thinking about him right now. Or about how I wanted to run my hands down his chest and follow the trail of hair lower... He was a man's man. I had always found chest hair sexy on man, somrthing more primative and utterly masculine, especially paired with that short scruffy beard. Most of the men I photographed now a days waxed or even did laser treatments to be bare and smooth. Each to their own I guess.

“A few of us around here wondered if you weren’t gay.” “Me? Gay?” “Come on. With the bull dyke swagger, the piercings and the excessive tats, not to mention the motorcycle, the addiction issues, the funky haircut and the tough girl attitude?” She slurped her Diet Coke. “Granted, single men are slim pickin’s unless you’re in the market for a dumb cowboy.”