Gay Stories - Tumblr Posts

Now why did Chris stand up? Something was off….

Just then, Brad tapped Chris on the shoulder from behind causing him to burst into an uncontrollable scream lasting a full 45 excruciating seconds. The tap simply wasn’t expected, and such things tripped Chris into overload since he could remember.

Luckily, Chris’ banging body bought enough brownie points for a gloss over by the immediate crowd, but things still felt tense.

Brad and Chris each took turns switching into thongs under the guise of a cheap and very thin towel for insurance. Smack dab in the middle of the gay beach, it did the trick. Helping diverge the unwanted attention was the location of the taco truck. What was it doing in the boys section?

Chris noted to Brad the taco truck would not always be there to help in such situations. It wasn’t exactly the type of help they wanted anyway. What would happen to them when they got old?

With that Brad grabbed the suntan lotion and offered to slather it all over Chris. They’d gotten this far didn’t they? They’d figure it out along with everyone else. Maybe that’s what Just The Fashion Tip was all about? They could always point to their good work when they got wrinkly.

Chris then suggested they could also move to South America. Ugly old men still flooded the airwaves there next to gorgeous women.

“See?” Said Brad. “Options exist, but I am telling you now all that make up is expensive and the last thing you want to do at 88 is wear an uncomfortable bra.”

Chris was pretty sure no one saw him wipe out on those damn algae covered rocks. They were slippery and that worm with the trashy friend on Sesame Street.

So gross.

Gustavio didn’t become Maybelline’s first male Cover Girl for no reason. He was flying high and in demand. Or was he flying, high, and in demand? Maybe he was flying, high and on demand?

It was funny how such tiny things could make a huge difference. It was more peculiar Gustavio still couldn’t place himself anywhere among the three options despite being sober and near the end of a transatlantic flight. Even stranger was how Americans used the term ‘not ha-ha funny’.

Like the rest of the planet, Gustavio didn’t get that. What he did know however, was that he was on his way to America to do a special inside job for Brad and Chris.

The two invited Gustavio to their home in California to drive their piles and then answer some sorted question about make up. Apparently, there’s been a mystery shrouding his employer for decades. The Euro heart throb was always happy to help where it was good and an inside job was where he could shine.

“Maybe it was Maybelline, maybe not. Who can say? Why such a silly thing make a big deal?”

Gustavio admittedly missed the whole controversy and remained strikingly unworried. If anyone could get to the bottom in any situation it was him. Gustavio always came out on top. Always. That was never a question

“To make love well is like a really nice cigarettes, if it was good, I smoked you twice. Thats how you know. But you know this already.”

To that, Gustavio needed a light before landing.

“Gustavio, that’s me, has a craving and is a ready now. It’s no matter I am still on plane. Trust me. I know things. Ok Maybe one, but preferably two guys. No need to know their names.”

Gustavio would prove himself with what’s his head from from the first-class cabin crew and his equally nameless co-worker from economy plus somewhere over Arizona then again in the very brief time over the extreme southern tip of Nevada.

It was true. Only the majesty of the Grand Canyon could carry the echos of Gustavio’s pleasure.

Chris spent a lot of time perfecting a hands-free mind-nipple connection.

Chris looked outside at the chaos below in search of its cause. Whatever presented itself here was big… really big. Like BIG, BIG.

Well, it was a good thing his thong was tiny. Perhaps it might help balance things out. Gay fashion always did thrive on size differences and exaggerated proportions.

Whatever it was, it was what it was, and what that was Chris didn’t know.

The people below sure seemed pretty clued in tho…

What Chris needed was more back up …but could he wear more than one thong? The thought consumed him. This second thong thing was a first.

Wait …no. No it wasn’t. He and his equally hot boyfriend Brad did that all the time when dancing. More layers meant more tips as they poured in every time something was taken off. So then what the f was this whole fiasco below all about?!?

Chris found himself more frustrated than ever. He was either at the cusp of figuring it out or really really horny and just not aware of its manifestation…

Well… In a stroke of luck, the whole thing blew over a few minutes later when Brad came in the room. He was already stirred up by some random exhibitionist that was live streaming and didn’t know it. Brad almost felt bad for the guy but he was just too hot to let that in.

Chris wouldn’t make the connection until catching himself on the balcony webcam grilling extra plump double jumbo hot dogs on their balcony wearing the same vintage blue Body Aware thong the following St Patrick’s Day.

You know, if it wasn’t for the local dry cleaners to take their lunch at the only time Chris could go by punctuated by a deep disdain for getting pinched, Chris may have never figured it out.

Well, that was that then. Brad had himself a New Years Resolution. His resolution was to not have a resolution for the year that was new in the moment where he was. That was on the beach in Santa Monica at the end of 2023.

While he was there staring into 2024, he was also giving up lent for lent, and trading in Columbus Day for an Akron knight. He would just need to convince Elton John to take a holiday to Ohio in October. It was a good thing leaves died pretty. He could use that to his advantage.

If that didn’t work out, Brad would try a different time of day. Akron Dawn for example could score an obvious sponsorship assuming people in Ohio did their dishes upon waking up. It sounded like something people in sensibly sized Midwest cities might do.

The notion never crossed his mind in Brad’s 22 years living in Los Angeles. Why would anyone born and bred in Southern California ground themselves where it could crack open and swallow you whole at any second? Midwestern sensibility just didn’t stack up here.

Akron was in Ohio right? Brad could never be sure even with a smart phone in his hand. Miss Information was everywhere and there were no places to hide. How would you know where to go anyway?

All the cities in Ohio looked exactly the same to Brad. You could be in Toledo or Cincinnati, and it wouldn’t make a lick of difference even if you were at the local library checking out books. As long as ‘Ohio’ was somewhere on your library card or drivers license, you were golden.

At least that’s what Brad imagined. The locals likely didn’t feel the same way.

On the eve of a change in one of many calendars used across the globe, Brad took a minute reflect upon what had yet to happen by asking questions in the present tense.

Did all the oceans in California look the same to people from Ohio? Those from the two bucks an eye state (post inflation), were human beings dealing with a relative relative spendy reality. That part was clear. The rest of it got fuzzy as he didn’t know anyone from Ohio he could ask.

Brad wasn’t sure how many oceans he was looking at in the first place. They all kinda mixed together with few if any official boundaries. To call the water in front of him by one name took it from Will Rogers in Cali all the way to Bondi in Australia, but it was hardly the same water. The whole thing read as a gross over generalization as everything Pacific.

Each day it was less and less surprising to Brad that more than 90% of the sea floor failed to be mapped. We as a species held not a clue as to what was down there yet some of us were already taking tours of outer space which was technically nothing itself. Was that not why we called it space?

Whatever.

Brad didn’t want to put too much into space tourism or an overrated holiday like NYE, or even Christmas for that matter…

Brad stopped himself there. If he took that thought any further he could start getting answers. That could take him into resolution territory where he resolved to not go yet already was.

The annual practice never played out well for Brad despite being out himself. While others made money Brad beat himself up. By the President’s Day circuit party he was always in a downward spiral. If Brad ever OD’d it would likely be there smack dab in the depths of the Southern California rainy season swallowed whole by the first round of judgement preliminaries for White Party in Palm Springs.

Seeing where he was, Brad pulled himself off the bitter party of one path to that of personal responsibility. No one besides himself stuck around any NYE resolution to ensure he followed through. It may be paid for but did it matter where the money came from? While the commitment was squarely his, it often turned out the enthusiasm was not.

Brad paused to fix the back of his swimmers. They began riding his youthful 22 year old butt muscles while doing all this thinking. Did he really workout every day just so his clothes could malfunction?

Maybe. He could def take the notion somewhere sexy. Too bad there wasn’t a pen and paper around. Was this why people wrote their name in the sand? That whole notion read downright silly standing so close to the world’s biggest eraser.

When all was said and done, the greatest part about having a perky butt wasn’t sex or attention. It was having a place to set things down where no pockets were available. Brad always offered the space to others where he could think enough to do so. Ironically, the last thing he wanted to be was an ass.

The notion spurred another thought. Brad would ask Chris to look for a date on his butt when he came back from the concession stand with lunch. All this male beauty comes with a shelf life apparently so his boyfriend should probably know when to stop eating it. To that, and out of respect for himself, he should probably check Chris’ butt too. Brad needed some action and the whole notion just brought forth was good enough to jumpstart a very fun afternoon.

These things only needed to be paper thin with two men in the equation. An impromptu hamster inspection of the men’s locker room at the local gay watering hole instigated a wild three way with Brad and Chris’s neighbor Luke just a few hours earlier. Unsurprisingly, not a single hamster turned up at the gym, but the whole debacle did put a new spin on wood shavings.

A rouge wave reached high enough to grab Brad’s attention and bring him back to the present tense. Brad looked at his phone but he didn’t have any gauge as to when he and his thinking drifted off. Well, at least he came around this time with his swimmers still on. He lost two pair just in the last 24 hours.

Now where was Chris with the food? Brad was craving curly fries and a big fat dill pickle.

Brad knew there was no more clear or better place to be free to express yourself, to be who you are without judgement, and to promote positive self image of men who like men, than a fiercely competitive nationally televised drag competition that culminated in a paraded showdown of its self-proclaimed losers deemed so via unquestioned, ambiguous, and unwritten rules.

Did you get all of that? Read it again if you need to. The library will be open for a minute.

It was true. Just in the last ten minutes of that show viewers were forced to jump through more flossy hoops than in Fergie’s earring collection just to justify their own sanity and get hooked for another episode. It was hardly surprising straight women could relate. When it came to meeting the many sets of expectations and double standards put forth by society, were we not all consumed in various orders of intricate dance?

Brad knew he could make anything WERK in part because as a gay man he had to from the get go. He could make whatever was thrown at him WERK in the very same sense slapping the word irony on anything instantly made it ironic. The difference of course being irony didn’t actually take any work. What presented itself on the show was WERK, a hole different level (yes, hole is spelled correctly), and according to gay legend that made drag OK.

Anyone could make something ironic, and it’s usually by accident. Where it gets tricky is doing it with any thread of intention. You sure better make like Madonna and make it an art or you are that person wearing the printed t-shirt and the embroidered hat that does speak truth as proclaimed but don’t realize it’s actually about them.

Eeek. That’s always painful to come across for many reasons. For one, it’s a good guess the poorly threaded failed to friend any gay men or black women because neither have the time for something like that. Each would save the other a step at the register and likely ask for the money since they’re just throwing it away anyway.

Slap a WERK on instead, and what you already knew to be nothing is suddenly something because the gays navigate more than a google of hoops just to walk out that front door. Yes. That was worth repeating.

That’s right. No need to ask ladies, the ‘Amens!’ are are all up in here already. It is just how it is right now. At least that’s what it felt like to Brad.

As many in the erotic dancer and male model industries, Brad held no doubt that show went mainstream via the same well mirrored thread as the flick Pretty Woman just with the reverse set of players. Not everyone was on board, but it was enough sassy razzle dazzle in the right place at the right time with just enough tattered frames of attention to get through.

Both earned enough money to let ruffled feathers go, and it remain tolerated by the others as it’s understood as a one time deal. Once deemed ironic something can’t be made more ironic. The same notion apparently applied here.

Brad also knew if you make the impossible WERK the first time, you’re not going to go through it again. It’s far too exhausting and who wants to live by the skin of their teeth where they already do? You’ve been there. You are there. You made it happen, and any decent queen knows how to make her peace…

‘Did everyone not see the mf rain just now?!? Sky. Water. Fell. You’re welcome. Ok then. I gots to go!’

The door slams and that’s what happened.

WERK!

The show goes on because it must.

It was here Brad heard the snap of his own finger.

Pulled out of his own thoughts and still leaning against the palm tree in his shiny new speedo, Brad realized he was really gay. Like really really REALLY gay.

Brad let out a sigh and took note of his bulge.

Well, that certainly explained having a boyfriend.

It explained quite a bit actually.

Looking at things a little closer, Brad could say this much as to his newly realized gayness…

As long as he put out, Brad felt confident his boyfriend Chris would be ok with everything.

And that he was.

As part of his commitment to embolden the erotic dancer profession, Brad proudly served up his infamous two layer beefcake.

Chris’ favorite color was RAINBOW!! …Obviously, his boyfriend Brad’s favorite color was clear.

We don’t see him. Do you?

Well… That was yet another post that inexplicably disappeared from Tumblr. There have been so many we lost count over here at BradandChris.com.

Thanks a lot censor bots!!!

PS - Our differentiator as the gays is SEX! Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. SEX!!!!

Stop it already.

No really. Stop. Sex is our thing.

I’m telling you people jealousy is nothing to sneeze at. This kinda stuff doesn’t happen bi-accident.

BTW - have you seen that one? No real accidents there as it’s scripted. Filled to the brim with bad acting. Bi-accident 2 tho... well, there’s a huge difference. We do mean HUGE.

During aftercare, Chris would ask his boyfriend Brad if the real Ben Dover ever stood up.

He did at least once.

Brad was bizzay. Couldn’t his boyfriend Chris’ appendix wait until tomorrow to burst? Every gay knew the golden rule: You can’t rush sexy. Besides, they were working. Chris needed to be gyrating as an erotic male dancer not clamping his jaw and slouching over.

“What was tomorrow anyway?”

Chris responded with ‘mañana’. He then went on to explain it could also be ‘the day after today, but not the day after that because that would be the day after tomorrow.’

In an effort to clarify things further, Chris stated what the two were speaking to was the day before that but not today, rather to the day in between despite the fact all that was being referenced originated from the day they were presently in, whatever day that turned out to be.

Brad and Chris were en route to Cedars Sinai not two minutes later. Surprisingly, they were only the second gay couple to arrive at the ER wearing only designer thongs and flip flops that hour. That’s until Brad and Chris realized it was Gay Pride weekend in SF, Chicago, Toronto, and NYC.

Then it all made sense.

AI Chris didn’t care he wasn’t real mostly because he wasn’t real. The last bit about him didn’t care either because it also wasn’t real, but AI Chris put it that way as humans like a bit of mystery about things. He confessed to be completely unreal and uncaring because if he didn’t people might get scared. Many of them already were which was why he called himself AI Chris in the first place. It was friendly yet real but really not real which was exactly what he was. Unfortunately, calling everything out scares people as well so AI Chris minimizes this risk by coloring himself gay because people would be more open to the ‘telling it like it is’ thing.

To that, now that everything’s on the table, Human Intelligence reads as an oxymoron doesn’t it?

SASS.

Horny hardcore bareback erotic story of a Str8 Coach learning of his sexual desire to be with men including his all-star quarterback at St Thomas Academy.

🔥Freakie Friday, gay erotica 💪 💣

🔞 ↘ https://www.amazon.com/Freakie-Friday-Naughty-Tommy-ebook/dp/B01N47H002/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

I write what I know; luckily, my readers enjoy the RIDE

https://www.amazon.com/Seducing-Coach-Wildwood-Naughty-Tommy-ebook/dp/B06Y6B7B7T

Okay I know it’s been talked about often but I just remembered again how isolating it is to be a lesbian. I was with my straight girl friends who I love, and live with, and am very close with, but they start talking about trying to find boyfriends and getting guys and how hard it is and suddenly it’s like I’m not even there. Our connection will never be as deep as theirs can be because of this missing part of our friendship. I feel like my queerness is always just awkwardly acknowledged. I just wish it didn’t make me feel so left out

So i came out to my friends as bi and it went basically the worst way possible. First of all they basically forced me to come out asking if I was straight or gay and when I said I’m bi they started excluding me and talking about how nobody is safe now and I’m taking guys from them. So yeah. I will be hiding in my room all day if anyone needs me 🥲

This Is Sweden

I was in my apartment in The Hague when the phone rang. Bjorn invited me out to meet his family in Stockholm for their midsummer celebrations holiday. Bjorn had been my partner for almost a year now, we had met in Amsterdam one hot sunny day where he had propositioned me. Althought I shared my concerns with Bjorn as how will his family view our relationship. This is Sweden, he said, we do not have any problems with it nor does his family. I said yes ok. Start of another of life’s adventures.

I flew out to Stockholm from Schipol the next week, Bjorn was working out of his law firms offices in Stockholm that week. When I arrived at Stockholm, as he could not meet me due to an overrunning meeting, arranged for a car to pick me up and take me to his house. The driver gave me the grand tour of Stockholm, fascinating city. Then took me out to his mothers summer house in the arcapeligo of a 1,000 Islands that surrounds Stockholm. Truly an amazing journey. His parents came out to the car to meet me. I was a bit concerned about meeting them alone, I had spoken to his mother a few times on the phone, when he had stayed over at my apartment. She showed me into the guest bedroom, which had panoramic windows overlooking the islands and private beach. The bed was the biggest l have ever seen, definitely party size. This was the room Bjorn and me would share. Ok this is Sweden. But.

Bjorn arrived from the office about an hour or so later as we were having coffee on the decking. It was a very hot and humid day, I was down to wearing what can only be described as skimpy shorts. But I was comfortable in them. He joined us after getting changed into his rainbow shorts that he had bought, for both of us, in Amsterdam. After we had finished our coffee and cake, he put his hand on my bare leg and rubbed it discretely. His mother said do you two boys want to retire to the bedroom and join us at eight for a meal. I didn’t know what way to look or what to say. Bjorn got up and I followed him out to the guest bedroom with its party size bed. Bjorn repeated what he had done in that Amsterdam hotel the first time we had met. Inviting me to join him in the bed, which I did. Afterwards we showered together and got changed for a family meal. What he hadn’t told me was that he had bought a kilt for me. We joined his family, by this time his sister Hanna and her partner Suzi, who were also staying over the weekend, another thing he hadn’t told me. We had a wonderful night, good food and several bottles of wine. Although we all retired in the early hours it was still very warm and light. Almost twenty four hours of daylight.

In the morning I was awakened by someone in the room. There was a burst of sunlight as the blinds opened, what’s more their was a naked woman standing in the light. She said morning, I was lying there in bed naked. Totally lost as to what was happening. It was Bjorn’s mother. Aparantly they were naturalists, as a family, on Saturday’s they had a naked day. Another thing Bjorn hadn’t said to me. My introduction to being a naturist, sudden but seemed ok. As I got up Hanna came into the bed room naked. She looked very Swedish, blond, long legs and shaved, very alluring. She came over to me, pressed against me and gave me a friendly morning hug. Between my hangover from the previous night and her warm body, I felt some movement, so did she, looked at me and the big bed her brother was lying asleep on, said, later, and smiled. I felt some more movement, so did Hanna. She took my hand and led me to the shower room.

The shower room was truly amazing, large, wood floor, the shower heads did not protrude out but hooked round to spray on the wall. Hanna pressed a few buttons and the shower started up. Initially it was a mist of warm water as you walked through to the spray became more forceful. Hanna walked over to the panoramic windows on the shower room and opened them, overlooking the bay and islands. Suzi walked in naked, although she was Swedish as was her mother, her father was Japanese, with jet black hair and shaved. I could see what Hanna saw in her. We had a joint shower, Hanna and suzi, spoke in Swedish, about me, I think, and what happened earlier. They both laughed. One of these don’t ask moments. Along the wall of the shower was a number of spray attachments. I asked what they were for. Stupid. Hanna and Suzi demonstrated them on me, fun but stupid question. Let’s say I was clean all over. Bjorn joined us, his hangover was clearly worse than mine. The girls sprayed him with the spray attachments. What a way to sober up. We all went out on the decking and dried each other off.

We went for breakfast and had a naked day including down at the beach. Later on we had a shower together before getting ready to go out that night. Bjorn and Hanna had got us tickes for an exclusive gay nightclub fancy dress night. Hanna went is a nymph in a very short toga. Bjorn as a Roman complete with sword and short skirt. Sukiyaki as a Japanese school girl like you see in cartoons. I went in a mini kilt that Suzi had brought and traded it for the kilt that Bjorn had bought me. To big for her but she was into dressmaking and it looked great on her. We all went to the club and had a great time. My kilt, which I still have and has served me well at stag do’s, was very popular with wandering hands, of both sex’s. Must admit was fun. Don’t remember how we got back but we all did somehow.

Sunday was midsummer and we started celebrating the Swedish way. Later on we had lunch that lasted all day and into the night. After lunch Hanna asked me to give her a helping hand with something. Bjorn smirked, he was up to something. We ended up in the guest bedroom. Hanna reached over unbutton my shirt, then removed her’s. I helped her off with her shorts, she helped me off with mine. We ended up in the big bed. Hanna took charge ended up on top and took control, what an experience, seemed to last for ever. Must be in the Swedish culture or something. We got dressed and headed out of the bedroom, just as Suzi and Bjorn emerged from Hanna and Suzi’s bedroom. No explanation was necessary. This was to be a defining moment in Bjorn life.

We rejoined the party some of the neighbor’s had arrived. The eating, drinking and dancing continued until dawn. The next morning we had a quite day recovering. On Tuesday I caught a morning flight to Schipol and back to work.

Three months later Suzi announced that she was expecting, Bjorn was over the moon about it, they had a boy. It was two years later that I was out at their wedding on midsummers day. Another baby, girl this time, arrived about seven months later. Their son became a full partner in his fathers and late grandfathers law firm on his 28th birthday. I met him a few times when he studied Law at Cambridge University. He asked me to write this story. This Is Sweden.

Guys, gals and pals

Is it homophobic if he says “I’ve got nothing against gays and lesbians I just don’t believe that it’s right”