Gay sex erotica of innocent smiles and pervy gropes: 1

Gay sex erotica: It was a very ordinary day – at least shuru toh ordinary hi hua tha. As usual, my alarm began ringing at 7, which I kept snoozing until 7:25. Akhir snooze button banaya kis liye hain?

When I was done lazing around, I unlocked my phone and quickly joined my college lecture. I was just in time. I put it on and began to freshen up, magar dhyaan phone pe hi rakha tha.

As soon as I heard the professor finish through the Ps, I bolted towards the phone, and tapped the ‘show of hand’ icon just in time for my own roll call – Rian. That was that. Attendance mil gaya. Now, I could go about with my day.

I know it’s sad, but jabse ye pandemic aur uske baad ka lockdown shuru hua hain, meri subah aisi hi shuru hoti hain. I just join the con call and then leave for work. I used to really enjoy going to college, not only to meet my friends, but also to learn.

Unlike many of my peers, I actually chose what I would study – Sociology. But I think papa ke liye thoda zyada hi hogaya. Ek toh tenth mein 90 mila, uske bavajuud maine Arts le liya, aur jaise unko itna stress de ke main khush nahi tha, unpar second year ke end mein gay wala bomb bhi phek diya.

He is still not over it, and thinks studying Arts made me gay. I agree; studying about different societies and cultures, and learning that in many places it is okay to love who you love, helped me recognise and accept myself as gay.

Anyway, roz ke arguments se main pak chuka tha, so I just decided to uproot my life and move on. As soon as portals opened, I applied for a college outside town, hunted for apartments and found a really nice, cheap but fairly decent place. I had some money left over from saving my birthday gifts and my previous part-time job.

I spoke to papa once everything was finalised and I think he looked a little proud of me, and maybe a little upset. Lekin ego bhi tha, toh he didn’t stop me.

But, he was a little guilty, so when I was leaving, he offered some money. I didn’t want to refuse him when he was making an attempt, so I took it and continue to accept the cash he sends once a month. I don’t really need it, so I save it.

I know, I know, my story is not the glossiest or the most exciting. It’s plain and ordinary. And I like it. Or at least I thought I did until today.

Living alone was an experience. Khana and all I already knew how to make and I was also very capable of cleaning up after myself. But I soon realised that wanting to do these things and having to do them was very different. I found myself getting lazy – jis thaali mein pakaya usi me kha raha tha, I would roam around naked in the house and do as much as I could to lessen my chores for the day.

Another byproduct of living alone was that suddenly, there was a lot of time and – more importantly – privacy for me to explore my body and self, and it didn’t help that I was walking around naked (to avoid washing clothes, of course).

The slightest brush of the curtain, the faintest draft of breeze, or even just the lights being put out and I would find myself wanting to touch myself, rub my cock against a pillow, hump the sofa I was lying on – Jab mauka milta lund ko haath mein liye, ya bistar par let ke hilata.

Another thing I could do was watch porn, and that too on loud speaker! I didn’t even think that were a possibility! I found myself browsing through as much porn as possible, and was even tempted to buy paid porn!

In a month of me living alone, the lockdown was announced and suddenly I had much more time to explore my body. I even considered making an OnlyFans account. I managed to resist, yes, thank to my common sense.

You see, I am pretty average looking: I have a wheatish complexion and pinkish-brown lips, a light dusting of hair on my face, that I shave regularly, and a similar light dusting of hair on my body that I don’t shave, save for my cock, balls, and ass.

I prefer to keep them clean. I have a slim body, but not much muscle definition. I even have love handles showing. My legs are longish but, not slender, because I am slightly plumper on my thighs and have a rounder ass than most boys.

I once heard my dad joking tell his friend, when I was 12, aichi chhavi ahe tyala, while pointing at my butt and laughing, and I am 5’8.

So yes, seeing my average body, save for maybe my butt, I didn’t think OnlyFans would be very kind to me. Sensibly, I dropped the idea. But soon there was not much to do. I was working from home, but there wasn’t much work. I barely attended classes because it was very distracting to listen through con calls.

I watched porn, and movies, but soon got over porn too. Seems the adage is true: too much of a good thing… Now I settle for low-budget, high-yield sexual satisfaction, which came in the form of kakdi and doodi and sometimes if I was feeling especially brave, karela – I like how the ridges and bumps would feel inside my ass.

The pharmacist nearby knew me well. He always let me go in the back and pick up condoms and lube, because the first time, I let him watch – anyway that’s a story for another time. So, basically, I was a sexually well-versed teenager with a penchant for shoving vegetables up my asshole.

Anyway, enough backstory, coming back to today: I needed to be out of the house by 8:30 so I could open up the studio by 9. I worked as an assistant at a nearby photostudio. The owner was the photographer and had hired me for help with printing, and a little bit of editing and photoshop that I had picked up in college.

The job was okay, pay was good and most of the time I got to ogle the men who came in and imagine scenarios where someone would come in and request for nudes and Roshan Uncle would be out and I would have to take them… you know where I am going with this.

We’ve all had a trip to fantasyland more times than once in a day. Plus during the pandemic, uncle let me work from home and continued to pay me. He would do home visits for stuff. Business was slow but there were still people having small gatherings and in need of passport size photos and the like.

But now, things have opened up and so was the shop, so I had to go in.

Today, Roshan Uncle was shooting a wedding, and would only come in the evening – I had to open the studio. So as I heard and ignored Prof Nidhi speak about cultural shock and assimilation or something, I went in for a bath.

I turned on the tap and decided to masturbate while it filled. I started with my nipples – teasing them just so and moved down to my balls. I ran my hand over them, circling one at a time and giving them a slight squeeze – thoda dard kisko pasand nahi?

I felt a few hairs that were sprouting up, so I reached for some shaving foam and lathered up my balls and the base of my cock too – it was hard, might as well do it while I can. Then scooped the remaining in two fingers and reached back and began spreading it over my ass hole – I shaved my ass yesterday, but a smoother ass hurt no one.

I was tempted to use my foam slickened fingers to fuck myself, but resisted, remembering that I needed to make this quick, and that last time the mint in the foam made my hole so tender, that I couldn’t walk without my underwear grazing my hole and making me moan.

I took hold of the razor and carefully, with both long and short strokes worked my way around the balls, up the base of my cock and then back down around my hole. I flipped the razor and shoved the back of the razor up my hole just a little – bless Gillette for those ridged handles – to calm myself down and then washed the foam off.

The bucket was full by then and I decided to masturbate later at work – yes I am a creep, no, it won’t be my first time. Blame Roshan Uncle for leaving me alone in the corner booth while he takes photos for long stretches of time!

I finished up my bath, dried myself, careful to avoid my cock – thande paani ne bechare ko bheegi billi bana di thi, thankfully!

I put on a pair of blue jeans and a white teeshirt, pulled on my shoes, grabbed the sandwich I had already packed last night from the fridge and hurried out of the house. I stopped at the nearby tapri and picked up my daily cup of adrak chai and headed to the studio.

I was just walking down the staris to my building when it hit me. I ran back up, opened the door, grabbed my mask and ran back down. Fucking Corona!

When I got there, I looked around, slyly picked up the keys from under the mat and opened the shutter. I pushed the door open, flipped the closed sign to open, let the door swing shut and immediately pulled off my mask and took a deep breath.

There was a little leftover bleach-like smell of chemical – Roshan Uncle was probably developing photos last night, but otherwise it was okay. I switched on the lights, fan, and AC, then reached for the computer and switched that on too.

I then poured my tea into my mug and let the smell of the adrak chai wake me up. I proceeded to unwrap my sandwich and placed it on a plate, as I headed back to the booth carefully balancing both the items in my hand.

I quickly glanced at the emails. There were a few, most from people wanting printouts of digital photos, one from someone asking the price range for wedding albums and one from someone asking about help with editing before printing, saying they’ll come by later.

By far, this email was the politest, like it was scared to offend someone. But at least it was refreshing. Most people would just say “PFA” or “Pls Print” No tact. Jaise main koyi machine baitha hoon logo ke photo chaapne wala.

I took a sip of my chai and queued the first few requests for printing, walked to the printer and placed the correct papers in the tray and came back to my chai, waiting for them to print.

As the printer whirred and creaked in the background, I opened the rest of the emails and replied to them. By the time I reached the last email, I heard the printer beep and headed to bring the photographs. They looked good. The printer was old, and took longer, but it had good colour output.

I took the last bite of my sandwich, downed the rest of my chai and got started on cutting out the extra white space. Over the past few months, I had gotten very good at cutting straight lines – the only straight thing I ever force myself to do!

I gathered all the shavings, pulled the bin under my desk ahead and in one fell swipe pushed them all in. That was that. I sent the next batch to print and carefully put these into an envelope.

I checked the time, das already baj chuke the. I opened the last email and checked the attachments. It was a guy, probably in his early twenties. He was cute, with a very boyish smile – wide and innocent. But that was where the innocence ended.

He was wearing a light blue tshirt that really showed off his defined arms – not too muscular, just right, like if he were to bend you over, wrap his arms around you and mount you, you knew you would be safe in them while he pounded you mercilessly.

His legs, at least the way they looked in the photo, looked like they were a doorway leading to your doom. Jaha tak mujhe dikh raha tha, bande ka lund mast tha, aur jeans mein shape outline kaafi saaf dikh rahi thi.

Also, I don’t know if it was the horniness, but it looked like he wasn’t wearing any underwear – lund uski daye pair se neeche ke taraf chipka hua tha. I kept imagining those arms holding me up against a wall as that cock worked its way into me, making me a mess of moans and groans and maybe even tears.

I could picture him licking my nipples and moving his tongue up to my neck and face, swiping off my tears and sweat with a smirk and jabbing his tongue through my lips making me taste what he was doing to me.

Fuck! Hilla lena chaiye tha mujhe. Pagal ho raha hoon main! And the odd thing was, he was not even in-your-face hot. But that smile, that fucking bhola-bhala smile, just made you want to do unspeakable things with him, bring out his wild side.

Lund toh mera khada ho hi chuka tha, ab toh precum bhi nikal ke phail raha tha. The worst and best part about leaking in your trousers in that sometimes it stains, but jab aap apne lund ko haath se neeche dabane ki koshish karte ho, bewafa lund precum ke karan aapke underwear aur pant ko sehela kar aur maza deta hain.

Main apne aap ko behelane ke koshish main he tha ki maine kisi ko darwaze ki taraf se awaaz dete hue suna. I looked up bit the sun was glaring at me from where I was sitting.

– “Bhai Koi hain?”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

My eyes fell down to my crotch and I breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily, my jeans didn’t look stained – thank god for dark jeans. Woh awaz bhi achanak sunke, mera lund shaayad chauk kar shant ho gaya tha. So, I got up, grabbed my mask and went to let them in.

As I got closer and the glare of the sun lesser, I realised it was the same guy – photo wala. Wah, abhi toh Kambhaqat shaant hua tha! I cursed my stars, my libido, and imagination and let him in.

“Maine email bheja tha photos ke saath? Print karani hain, lekin pehele thoda edit bhi karna hain.”
“Haan! Aiye. Main aapke hi photos check kar raha tha.”

Sach hi tha, usko kaun batayege hi uske photos dekh kar main khudki chudayi ki soch main tha? Anyways, I walked him to my booth. I noticed my mug and plate, so I quickly excused myself, picked them both up and took them to the basin. While coming back, I finally looked at him.

He was wearing a football jersey, Arsenal ka, I think? And grey nylon running shorts. Mera tharki dimaag fir sochne laga ki is baar underwear pehena hoga ki nahi. I pushed the thought out of my mind and headed towards him.
“Sorry. Aaj Uncle nahi hain, toh sab thoda idhar udhar ho gaya hain. “

“Oh, koi baat nahi. Aap kuch kar rahe hain toh main rukh sakta hoon. “

That was sweet. I thanked him and moved to sit down. He was standing just next to my chair so I had to go past him. As I moved, I felt something soft and lumpy. Fuck! My ass rubbed against his cock. Shit.

I turned and looked at him, he just seemed to be awkwardly smiling, but I couldn’t tell. Damn masks! I decided to just let it go and be professional, even though my mind kept saying that he must not be wearing any underwear, kyunki mujhe jeans ke through feel hua saale ka lund!

Haan, yahi photos bheje the maine!

Shit! I didn’t realise that screen was open.

There was no need to panic, but I felt a little guilty. I just nodded “haan” and then opened photoshop and asked him what he needed.

He got closer to me, and bent a little to look at the screen. His crotch was suddenly very close to my mouse holder now. My hands were on the keyboard, but I would have to use the mouse to edit. I wanted to reach out and grab the mouse before it was too late and too awkward, but I didn’t trust myself not to grab his cock.

So I just waited as he explained what he wanted for each photograph. Mujhe theek se kuch sunaiye bhi nahi de raha tha. Ek toh mask tha, uske upar se itne nasdeek khada tha ki muje uski sharer ki garmi mehsoss ho rahi thi or maybe the AC was not cooling yet.

I caught some keywords: sepia, airbrush, and deeper shadows, toh mujhe kuch toh idea aya ki kya chahta tha ye. I was brought back out of thought when he asked me if I understood what he wanted.

“You just want old, vintage looking photos, right? I asked.
“Yes!” he said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should be explaining it in English, but yes, that is what the idea is.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “Let’s get started.”

I asked him to pull up a chair, hoping he would move and let me grab the mouse, but he refused and continued to stand there, saying he’s comfortable. I wanted to punch my fist into his balls and ask him if he was still comfortable, Bastard.

It seems my mind took me seriously and I found my hand lifting and moving towards his crotch, I realised and tried to jerk my hand back so I would only grab the mouse and not his mouse.

But too late. I felt it. Soft and spongy and warm. Fuck! Too late. My mouth went dry with fear. Surprisigly, outwardly, I was still calm and grabbed the mouse, pretending like nothing happened.

I could feel the back of my neck get chills from fear of a possible beating, but I continued to open the tool for shades of sepia and vintage hues.

“I’ll go through them one by one, you tell me which ones work for you and we’ll save those templates, okay?” I looked up at him. Even more surprisingly, he just nodded haan and continued gazing at the screen like nothing happened.

Yah toh main bohot lucky hoon, yah isko niche koi sensation nahi hain. I chuckled to myself thinking about squeezing his balls and stroking his cock as he stood there, feeling nothing.

He asked me what happened and I just brushed it off. But what I couldn’t brush off was the sensation I felt when I touched him – all too easily for it to be confined by more than one good layer of clothing.

So, as I was swiping through hues and asking him for approval I slowly swerved my mouse further and brushed against his cock once more. He didn’t react. I wondered if he really didn’t feel anything or if he was just too innocent to realise that that was done on purpose. I knew he wasn’t enjoying it, because he wasn’t getting firmer.

A few minutes passed, I managed to restrain myself, and he finally settled on one hue. Now, I had to airbrush the photos. So again, I used the excuse of necessary movement aur uski lund ko thoda thoda sehelate gaya.

Jaise jaise main sehelate gaya, muje realise hua ki yeh shorts woh with-underwear attached type ke the. The ones with the nylon underwear stiched in – dryfit. No wonder I could feel his balls so easily – Fucking kinky bastard came out of his house with no underwear like he was out for a fuck.

I was emboldened by my discovery and continued to feel him up.

Once… twice… thrice… –

And then on the fourth, it felt bigger.
Fuck! I didn’t dare look up. I just continued looking at the screen and asking for his approval as I made changes.

I brushed against it once more – it was firmer, warmer. I was suddenly aware of myself. It was getting harder to breath and I could feel a renewed chill down my neck, caused by beads of cold sweat. I didn’t know where this was going, but I couldn’t stop.

I was in a trance. Every movement I made, ended in a swipe at his cock, now growing harder. The harder it got, the more it stuck out, the closer it came to my hand, making it possible for more than one brush at a time.

I was slowly becoming aware of him too. He was breathing harder and may, just maybe pressing against my hand every so often. I need to do something. Feel more. I decided to cop a better, bigger feel – if this was to go down in flames, at least let it go down with no regrets.

I knew what to do. I didn’t realise until after I had spoken that my voice came out a little throaty.

“Sorry, I need to take off my mask.” I said drawing his attention to me as I pushed my hand further towards his crotch and lifted my hand up lifting his balls and cock with it and ripped off my mask.

I smiled at him as if nothing was amiss. His eyes looked a little like they were in a daze. Seems he was feeling all of that! Bastard! He pulled his mask off too and gave me that smile – that smile that I saw in his photos, the one that drew me in.

I felt the full force of the smile this time and it went straight to my cock. Fuck! I felt a rush of precum leak out and soak my inner thighs and balls. I could now feel a cool sting on my hand too. Was I sweating more?

I looked down at my hand and a big dark spot caught my eye. It seems, I wasn’t the only one who had just had a gush of precum mess him up. There was a quickly growing dark pool of precum spreading around his crotch.

“I am so sorry!” I heard him croak out. I looked up at him. He had his innocent smile in place, but it was marred with guilt, embarrassment, and a little bit of fear this time. “This is so embarrassing. Believe me, I am not a tharki.”

Once again, he surprised me. He was apologising. He thought it was his fault. He thought that my copious groping of his cock was on accident and that he is the pervert who was getting hard because of it.

Fuck! I don’t know why, but I was turned on – turned on by his innocence, turned on at the chance to ruin him, turned on at the opportunity to make him a man – a wild fucker, who knows his place in the world is to fuck.

I know it’s sick and demeaning, but I could think of nothing else other than getting down on my knees and showing him just how much I believed him. I shifted in my seat and felt the precum spread to my hole. It was getting tingly, so I subtly rubbed my ass on the seat.

If I wanted to do this right, I had to be calm, in control. To put it simply, and optimistically, I had to help him. I could see the wheels turning in my mind, forming a way to help him.

Of course you’re not! Don’t worry about it, man. I am at that age too. I know how difficult it can get sometimes.

I could still see the embarrassment in his eyes. So I stood up. Put my hands on his shoulder, they felt firm, but his nervousness made them slump – he was still at least 3 inches taller than me – and repeated:

– It’s okay. I am Rihan. What’s your name?
– “Ar-yan.” He hesitantly said.

Gay sex erotica of horny guy seducing a straight man at his shop

– Aryan, you’re cool. Okay? I’m going to help you. First thing we need to do is get rid of those pants. You’re wearing underwear, right?
He shook his head and looked down – he didn’t see me smiling devilishly at his confirmation.

I said okay and reached into my drawer and pulled out a hand-towel, which I keep to dab any sweat away. I sat back down in my chair and pulled it closer to him, such that my eyes were at crotch level.

I took a deep breath and smelt the musky scent of precum from his shorts. Fuck I just want to rip his pants off and bury my nose in his pubes as I rub his cock against my face. Fuck! Pull it together!

“Since you aren’t wearing underwear, we’ll just have to try and wipe it off or dry it up enough that you can go out without everyone staring at you and giving you dirty looks while whispering pervert to each other.”

I know that was a little nasty, but I needed him to be a suggestible.

“Just help me,” was all he said.

I bunched the towel in my hand and began brushing at him with new long strokes. I was aiming to get him as horny as possible. I purposely swiped the towel upwards to lift his, I’m sure sopping wet by now, cock. I smiled at his crotch as I heard him stifle moans.

It was at least six inches. I need to do more. I lifted my left hand that was resting on his thigh and pretended to get a glob of precum with it that the towel couldn’t.

This time he couldn’t hold the moan back. Fuck! Having this hunk of an innocent boy squirming for release at my hands was thrilling. I almost expected my cock to burst free and beg for release.

But it didn’t, because unlike this slutty little boy, I wore underwear. I swiped harder with my thumb and felt his foreskin pull back. Yes!

“MMhnmmm”, he tried but failed to hold back another moan. He grabbed my hand and pulled it off, saying, “Sorry. Fuck. I am so sorry, Rihan. You’re trying to help me and here I am getting harder and I almost came on you just now. I am so sorry.”

I just wanted reach around him, grab his hip and shove his crotch into my face! What is it with this man! I couldn’t wait any longer. This was too much.

“Aryan, this is not working. It’s seems all this contact with your crotch is making it worse. There’s only one thing we can do.”

“Do it! What is it? Do it; please help me!” he practically begged.
“We’ll have to make you cum.”

To be continued…

Author’s Note:
Hi Guys,

This is my first time writing gay erotica, so any feedback – negative or positive – is really appreciated. Plus, I am depending on you guys to let me know if I should continue with this story. Depending on whether you guys think it’s worth it or not, I’ll continue.

Also, I tried to pepper in some Hindi in the story, I am not sure if that works. I have complete English version as well, if you think it would read better. My Hindi is not great, so I am not sure if it reads well.

On another note, I added a little backdoor for a story in this one – about Rihan’s encounter with the pharmacist; that could be a part 3, if you like. Either way, please let me know what you guys thought of it.

Write to me at: [email protected]
Hope to hear from you!