Gay Solos

They didn’t seem a likely pair, these two high school boymen who
were giving each other pleasure on the locker room bench.

It was after 6 PM, and they had sneaked in to steal their furtive
moments of pleasure. When they were done, they would sneak out, act
like their straight friends and stay hard until they were able to
do it again.

It was the second time they had met, and they had not become too
adventuresome, not even approaching the fantasies that their
minds had been turning over since they each learned (years
before) that thinking about boys made them harder and feel better
than thinking about girls ever could. When they were sure that
they were alone, they embraced one another and were once again
struck by how right their mouths felt, and they wrestled with
their tongues kissing eyes, cheeks, lips, neck and thus inflamed
their passion. The two athletes were now breathing as heavily as
during any workout and were straining against their jocks and
sweat shorts.
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He offered me a lift to Newcastle, for free. Well, I couldn’t afford to
refuse, could I, and he was rather nice. Looking at my thin jeans and
denim jacket, he said I’d better borrow some leathers from him, or I’d
freeze to death. So we went back to his flat. In his wardrobe he’d got
a fantastic amount of leather gear — must’ve cost a fortune.
He sized me up and chose one of those new leather jackets in green
(you know how well green suits me!).
“Strip to your T-shirt,’ he ordered.
“Here we go,’ I thought, “here comes the pre-flight entertainment.’ I
wasn’t exactly unwilling to have it off with him, but a bit nervous about
all his leather toys. I needn’t have worried, though; that wasn’t on his
mind at all.
The leather jacket fitted beautifully, like a second skin, smooth and
warm. Then he hunted for a matching pair of green leather trousers.
“I can’t get into those,’ I muttered, “they’re far too tight.’
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Charles Collins opened the note with a trembling hand. “I’ll see
you after the game”, it said. “Don’t get changed.” The note wasn’t
signed, but he knew exactly who it was from, for he had repeatedly
asked his friend Peter to go up to the barn with him after rugby. To-
day, at last, Peter had agreed, and Charles knew that the moment he
had longed for was close.

The game seemed endless; at half-time, Charles would gladly have
walked off the pitch, even though the score was level and his chances
of selection for Saturday’s match hung on the outcome. His mind was
elsewhere, however, and more than once his captain had shouted to him
“Charlie! Wake up!” as his eyes had wandered to the touch-line in
search of his friend. Every scrum seemed to bring temptation – a wan-
dering hand, the faint smell of youthful bodies. But Charles knew that
he must wait, patiently, and that it would be worth it.
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It was Friday evening, the end of a thoroughly shitty
week. Travis had had to work late to get some stupid report done
that his boss wanted first thing Monday morning. This pissed him
off, since Travis was in the habit of working out after work on
Fridays – to get into shape for the week end – and he was afraid
the gym would be closed by the time he got there. As it hap-
pened, Travis finally finished his work about eight, the gym
closed at nine, so Travis figured he still had time for at least
part of his routine.

By the time Travis arrived at the gym it was twenty past
eight, there were just a few sweaty guys still there. Most in-
structors had left, leaving Joe to close up. Since he was the
youngest of the gym’s staff, Joe usually got this detail when
things were slow. Travis went directly to the locker room to
change, avoiding looking at Joe. Travis knew Joe would be a
little pissed at somebody coming in this late, but hoped he
wouldn’t say anything about it. Joe didn’t. Travis got into his
sweat pants quickly, not bothering with a shirt or a jock, and
got right down to his workout routine. Recently Travis had been
concentrating on reps for definition, so each routine took a
little while. Travis was concentrating on his third set of
situps on the incline board when he noticed Joe was standing by
his shoulder watching him closely.
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I ripped off those tight Speedo’s to reveal his manhood. He was
so muscular. He was now lying on his washboard stomach, his biceps
flexing as he groped about. Without a word, a positioned by hard
cock at the base of his asshole and began to push in. Peter screamed
“No! Don’t do this to me! I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
That was the last thing on my mind. Anyway, Peter said “is this
gonna hurt?”. I said “This will hurt more than anything you’ve
ever felt” wanting even more to begin pumping his tight ass. I
moved in for the kill. I begin pushing in. As I did he screamed bloody murder into the floor. I pushed all the way in. He screamed
like I’ve never heard. I was finally in him. I began riding that
tight ass like a cowboy groaning in pleasure as I caused this hard
stud so much pain. I pumped harder and faster and harder until
his virgin asshole started bleeding. I then quickly pulled out
and stuck my cock in his mouth. Not knowing what to do he began
sucking it unwillingly, tasting his own shit in his mouth. He sucked
and sucked and I kept deep throating him until I came so hard in
his mouth that he began gagging. I then got dressed and ran so
far. He never really made contact with me again that year. I wonder
why?

When I was a junior in high school a couple of years ago, there
was the really hot guy on the water polo team named Peter. Now
Peter was also a junior and he was incredibly muscular. He worked
out in the pool daily from 5:45am-7:30 and 3:00pm-5:30pm. He also
pumped iron regularly. He had sandy brown hair and was about 6′2″.
He was about 180, all muscle. I was about 6′0″, not nearly as buff,
and strong. I fantasized about Peter daily. I just wanted for
him to flex those hard biceps while I pumped in and out of his
hard ass. So finally, one day, I decided to make my move. I waited
after school one day for him, after his practice. I snuck into
the swimming area and into the locker room. I saw him changing
and I began beating off watching him stretch that enormous body.
Anyway, I began groaning(not intentionally), and I guess he heard
me. He yanked open the stall door where I was and said “Well well,
what do we have here?”. I remember trying to run, but he just held
one with his muscular hands. All of a sudden I had more energy
in me than ever. I pushed him to the ground, and held him down.