A gay story: Beary Christmas My family opens Christmas presents on Christmas Eve, and my eighteenth Christmas was no different. We opened our presents according to age. The oldest go first, youngest last. This builds suspense for the youngsters, and keeps them from ravaging the house with their new toys while everyone finishes.
My aunt’s new boyfriend was my type of guy, but I was still tightly locked in the closet at age eighteen. No one had an inkling I was gay back then. The new addition to the family had a beautiful beard, a barrel chest, and was big but not fat. I assumed he was furry all over based on the tufts of hair bursting out of the top of his shirt. As a bonus, he was manly and had a deep, sexy voice. He didn’t have many presents, as most of us hadn’t met him (or didn’t even know Aunt Sue had a lover). However, it excited me to watch him open what few presents he had. Why? Well, he sat on the couch next to her and opened his presents near his lap. I appeared to be watching the gift unwrapping, but my attention was on something else entirely – the big bulge in his khaki pants. I later wondered if anyone noticed me taking more pictures of him than anyone else.
If all the single family members were to sleep in separate beds, couches, and blow-up mattresses that night, someone would have to sleep on the floor. It was going to be me, because I was NOT going to sleep with my mother. To remedy the problem, my aunt slept with my mother, and my aunt’s new boyfriend and I slept together in the guest room on the queen-sized bed. All the guests had a bed; problem solved. My aunt warned me that he had Restless Leg Syndrome and “rode a bicycle in his sleep.” Who cared? I couldn’t wait to see him in his underwear.
I had never seen him or anyone his age undressed, and he was the age I found men attractive. When he shut the door, I took off my clothes, succeeded in staying limp, and slipped into bed. My eyes squinted to watch him undress without him knowing. He removed his shirt first and revealed a furry, grey-haired chest. My dick got hard, so I turned to hide it. I was still watching. He might have known I was peeking because he slid his pants off and rearranged his dick from the outside of his underwear for an inordinate amount of time. I saw the bulge in his underwear and imagined how he looked without it. He turned off the light and got into bed beside me.
He slept on his back, and I remember seeing the outline of his package creating a lump on the blanket… just a little bump to remind me what was so close and so unavailable. In about ten minutes his breath slowed, and he snored. Then, his legs started. I couldn’t sleep, but it wasn’t because of his stirring, snoring, commoted sleep. I was aroused. I thought, “If I don’t jack off, I’m going to have blue balls.”
I had blue balls when I was 15, and it wasn’t fun. To remedy the impending pain I began rubbing myself. I reached beside the bed and got a sock to catch my cum. Thinking I might get away with it, I moved my leg over, not far, slightly inside the pedals of his nighttime bicycle. His leg touched mine. I shot on his second rotation. He snored continuously, so I knew I was safe. I tried to fall asleep but couldn’t with his snoring and agitation – not to mention what mulled around in my head. At least I had stopped the blue ball steam train….
After about twenty minutes of thinking dirty thoughts, I was ready to cum again. This time, I wanted more. Since he didn’t wake when our legs touched, maybe a little more contact was possible. I put my leg closer to his, so every time he moved his hairy leg, we touched. I eased down the bed until his knee rubbed my inner thigh with every round. I moved down a little more. His knee now moved my balls with every rotation – his movement unchanging, predictable. I was almost ready to cum again when I moved down a little more. He woke up; I knew because his breathing changed and his snoring stopped. He realized what was going on because he changed his leg movement; his legs spent more time on me. My dick throbbed. I writhed. My breath quickened. The cum surged into my underwear. I sighed in completion, and he stopped moving his leg. He stood and went, I think, to the bathroom.
When he came back, he lay on his back again and fell asleep within minutes. Could I get away with more? After he slept awhile, I got all the way under the covers. The light from the back porch seeped into the room, but it was dark under there. I waited for my eyes to adjust. When I could see his underwear, I inched up the elastic waste band and peeked. Couldn’t see much and couldn’t use both hands because of the angle. I pulled the elastic until I saw it. He was uncircumcised like me, and for whatever reason, this turned me on. I put his underwear back and waited a minute. Thinking. Fantasizing. Could more happen? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but my heart raced as my dick grew hard again. His snoring hadn’t stopped since he got back in bed – a good sign. My hormones raged at 18, and I wanted more. My hand slid to his inner thigh, barely touching the underside of his balls and stayed there, paused. He didn’t wake. I inched my hand up his balls and felt the head of his dick. I’ll admit, I was already close to cumming again. I waited; he didn’t wake. I moved my hand up a little more until I cupped his entire package. My dick dripped with precum, I’m sure. I rubbed mine as my hand rested on his. I was feeling a dick for the first time; I was both excited and scared. He stopped snoring, I was under the covers, and my hand was on his dick. Shit!
My heart pounded; my stomach tightened. Fuck! I waited to see if he might not notice and fall back asleep, but I felt something else. His dick was growing. He was getting hard. I felt it grow and push against his underwear. He started moving his hips against my hand, and I started moving my hand in rhythm. Slow and steady. My heart pounded. For a minute I wondered if he remembered who was in bed with him, but I felt his hand touch the back of my neck – he knew. He felt my short hair. His touch was warm and loving. His other hand pulled his underwear under my hand and under his balls. He was completely exposed. This was the first time I had seen anyone’s erection, and I’ll never forget it. He stroked it a few times and rubbed my hand, which was now exploring his hairy balls. He moved my hand up to stroke him, and my hand slid up and down his shaft. I pulled the skin back and forth – that’s what I knew, and I knew it felt good when I did it to myself. His hand moved up my neck and pulled me towards it. Loving. Slow. Easy. His other hand pulled his foreskin back, and before I knew it, my lips touched the tip. I didn’t know what to do, but my tongue slowly licked the tip and under the head. My tongue knew what to do. His hips rocked toward me, and I knew what he wanted. My lips parted, and his dick slid into my mouth. I could feel him breathe heavier, and my mouth coordinated with the motion of his hips. His hips moved a little faster, and my mouth did the same. His hand caressed my head and neck as it bobbed in rhythm. A little faster. Harder. He breathed with growing ecstasy. His dick throbbed against my tongue and shot a big, warm load down my throat. I swallowed it all hungrily. It tasted just like mine, and I sucked as much out as I could. He was still caressing the back of my neck as he got limp and slid out of my mouth. He pulled up his underwear, patted me on the back, and slightly scratched the short hair on the back of my neck with his fingernails. Evidently, his hand returned to his hairy chest and rubbed it with contentment. At least, that’s what it sounded like. I didn’t know what to do.
I eased around, came up from under the covers, and looked at him. With eyes closed, he was in the exact position he was sleeping in before. I needed to cum again (this was my first sexual experience), so I moved my underwear beneath my balls like he had done. I stroked myself under the covers. I felt his hand pull down the covers and rest on my thigh. Then his hand moved up and cupped my balls. It felt amazing; no one had ever touched me sexually. He pulled on my testicles as my hand moved up and down, pulling the skin forward and backward over my head. After a few more strokes, he moved my hand away and pulled the skin back himself. He growled in approval and paused in admiration. He squeezed it and made the head bulge. My hand moved to the back of his neck as his had mine. He looked at me with a smile and slid down in bed. His tongue started on my balls, beard tickling me, and wandered up the full underside of my dick. He lapped up some leftover cum and moaned – I hoped no one could hear us. When his warm mouth finally eased around me, down me, and back up, I started rocking my hips against his beard. I fucked him in his mouth – his warm, moist mouth. His tongue pressed against the underside with friction, his beard tickled my balls, and I thrusted harder, faster. I was shaking with excitement. My hips sped up. The bed bounced. My breath grew heavier, faster. When I came, my dick pulsed more times than I’d ever felt. I came… and came… and came. When I finished, he grabbed my dick at the base, squeezed up to get all the cum he could, and lapped up the little that had gotten away. He looked lovingly in my eyes and crawled up to me. Our lips met, and his tongue helped push the cum into my mouth. I grabbed the back of his head, pulled him closer, and our tongues moved the cum around together. One hand rubbed his big shoulder and the other rubbed his furry chest while we explored each other’s mouths with our cum-coated tongues. When I swallowed, our cum mixed together inside my stomach, and it was more sexy than my fantasies had ever been. I would later jack off to this memory for months, years. He pulled away, looked in my eyes, and put his hand gently on my cheek. We kissed passionately. Then he pulled away, smiled, and our eyes said, “I love you.” A warm love – one that said this wasn’t a one-night-stand. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
He finally rolled over. I pulled up my underwear, and his hand moved back to his chest. I pulled the covers and turned toward him. My hand moved up to his chest and replaced his on the fur. His settled upon mine, and we smiled. Moments later, he snored and rode his bicycle. His grey-haired chest moved our hands up and down, and I dozed off with a feeling of warmth and love for the first time in my life. I slept soundly with his taste in my mouth – the best Christmas present I’d ever received.